Ligna et Lapides
by freakess360
Summary: Mysterious conditions force Merlin to serve a visiting noble who can't return to his estate due to a horrible winter storm. The lord begins to act abusive and questions arise about where his first servant has disappeared. Can Arthur save Merlin in time? S4
1. Wintertime in Camelot

_Summary_:** Under mysterious circumstances Merlin is forced to serve a visiting noble who cannot return to his estate because of a horrible winter storm. The lord begins to act abusive and questions arise about where his first servant has disappeared. Can Arthur save Merlin in time?**

_A/N:_** I have always loved **_**Merlin**_** and enjoyed writing stories about him and Arthur so much. But watching the show I noticed that you never see snow or any real type of winter depiction, so naturally I had to have my story take place during extreme winter conditions! Also I wanted to focus on Merlin and Arthur's unique friendship and add new dimensions of character development I feel the show leaves out. So, without further adieu, I give you **_Ligna et Lapides _**(Latin for "Sticks and Stones"… a play off the phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me').**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer**__:__Merlin_ is owned by BBC.

* * *

**Chapter 1 (Wintertime in Camelot)**

Camelot awoke with a fresh blanket of snow. The sun had yet to climb high and add its heated rays to the land below. But as the sun struggled still higher, the wind became mistress to the snow, kissing it and whispering wasted, winded words in its ear. The people of the city, however, remained ignorant to the struggle of the sun and simply cursed the wind's frivolous affair. Unfortunately, the harsh weather did not deter the servants who worked in the castle to remain in bed. The call for bigger fires and warm baths kept the servants busy fetching wood and water alike. One such raven-haired servant answered the call of his master, and now he trudged through the crisp snow with a heavy bucket of water for the king's bath. Merlin had made the costly decision - which he now regretted - to go to the closer well located out in the courtyard to retrieve water as opposed to going to the kitchens and carrying the water up four flights of narrow stairs.

The wind bit at the surreptitious sorcerer's back for rudely interrupting its affections with the snow. Merlin ducked his head to prevent being blinded by the sailing snow and gripped the bucket tighter in his uncovered, frozen fingers. A patch of ice aided the wind's assault on Merlin by tripping the boy and causing him to spill water down his front, wetting his only jacket. Cursing mildly, the raven-haired warlock steadied himself and entered the castle, slowly climbing the set of stairs that led to his master's chambers.

Upon entering the dimly lit room, Merlin spotted the fair-haired king still huddled in bed. Ignoring Arthur, he continued into the room and shuffled to the fireplace. Slowly, as not to spill any more water, Merlin poured the frigid liquid into the warming pot above the fire. Setting the empty bucket on the ground, Merlin began to stoke the fire, encouraging it to jump higher and tickle the underside of the pot with its flamed tongue. Striping off his wet jacket, Merlin placed it next to the fire to dry. He then turned to face the bed while frantically blowing hot air onto his hands to alleviate their numbness.

Arthur peered at him from over his duvet. "Are you almost done?"

Merlin nodded, still concentrating on warming his hands.

"Good," came the slightly muffled reply.

Wary of the eyes that watched him, Merlin proceeded to organize the messy room as the water warmed for the bath. Over the past few days snow storms and strong winds had forced almost everyone to remain indoors. Arthur had seldom left his chambers during this time, leaving an even greater mess for Merlin to clean up. Being confined to such a limited space had also caused Arthur to become restless and irritable. His critical eyes and insulting tongue were always turned in his manservant's direction. Merlin, being the cheerful person he was, took the king's mood in stride though he himself was itching to be released from the terrible conditions that led to this confinement indoors.

Merlin sighed as he deposited the dirty garments, which he had collected from off the floor, next to the door so as he could easily retrieve them before taking them down to the laundry room to be cleaned. He then proceeded to straighten Arthur's desk, which was littered with plates from pervious meals and spare pieces of parchment. The drafty window behind him expelled a particularly bad burst of cold air at Merlin's slightly damp shirt. Shivering, he quickly finished straitening the desk and hurried back to the fireplace to check on the warming water. Peering at the pot he noted that the water was almost boiling. Wrapping his hands in a rag, so he could remove the pot safely, Merlin reached over the flickering flames and firmly grasped the iron handle and heaved the pot off the fire. Slowly, he poured the steaming contents into the copper tub with the rest of the water he had previously fetched and warmed. The hot water mixed with the cooler water and hissed in displeasure. Nodding to himself, Merlin said, "Bath's ready."

"It's about time," said Arthur, in a clipped response. "I'm freezing."

Merlin didn't comment that he was far colder than Arthur, seeing how he had to go outside to fetch water and was still wet from his tumble on the ice. Instead he simply said, "Shall I set out your beaver cloak for you to wear, Sire?"

"Hmmmm," Arthur hummed and he slipped himself into the warm bathwater. "Yes, I suppose you should."

Walking away from the warm comfort of the fire, Merlin went to the cloths cupboard and retrieved from the bottom drawer Arthur's expensive furred cloak. It was heavy but extremely warm. Dark brown beaver fur lined the inside of the cloak and its hood, creating a soft envelope for the wear's body. The cloak's outside shone with the golden embroidery that decorated its royal red cloth. Hefting it in his arms, Merlin carried it behind the changing screen where Arthur would dress and placed it by the trousers, shirt, and jacket he had picked out before Arthur demanded a warm bath.

Stepping back out from behind the screen, he was greeted with a content, relaxed Arthur. "Perfect temperature, Merlin," Arthur commented, making the first compliment to Merlin that he had in days.

Merlin beamed and strode back over the fire and placed another log in it. "What are your plans for the day, Arthur?" Merlin inquired informally.

The water in the tub sloshed as Arthur shrugged. "I don't know yet. But I need you to polish my armor and sword to make sure they don't rust in this weather, take care of my laundry, and fetch me breakfast."

Merlin smiled to himself, it looked like he could finally have a slow day where he could at last catch up on reading his magic book and memorize some helpful spells. But that vision slipped from reality when Arthur continued to say, "Last night Lord Harris asked to borrow a servant seeing his suddenly became ill. I told him you would be happy to serve him until his servant was at full health. After you are done with me you are to report to Lord Harris' chambers. George will serve me in the meantime."

Merlin frowned at the news, not only was George replacing him – that bootlicker – but he had to serve the visiting Lord Harris. That man was scary. Unfortunately, the lord was stuck here in Camelot during the last few days of snow, stopping him from leaving at his appointed time to go back to his lands and manor. Completely dismayed by the order, Merlin began to do what he did best: complain. "Do I have to? I mean why can't George do it? Or Liam, or Will, or Hector, or-"

Arthur cut him off. "No. It is only fitting that you would serve him while he is a guest here."

"But _Arthur_," Merlin said, exasperated. "The man is horrifying! And wouldn't you want to impress a guest with a more capable servant… after all I am 'the worst manservant ever'."

"You may be the worst but you are certainly capable. I mean, you are _my_ manservant."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it. End of conversation."

Merlin sighed. "I'll just go get your breakfast then, Sire."

Shoulders slumped in defeat Merlin left the room and made his way towards the kitchens. Taking a shortcut or two, he arrived at the kitchens and was met with a blast of hot air when he opened the door. Stepping inside the room he quickly shut the door and strode up to Mary, the head cook. "Good morning, Mary," he said cheerfully.

She replied, "Merlin! How wonderful to see you today. I have the King's breakfast all ready; it's over on the table."

Now Mary was a plump woman but she had the speed and strength of a teenage male. Her coarse, brown hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she wore her usual forest green dress with the sleeves rolled up. Sweat poured off her forehead as she stood up from bending over one of the giant brick ovens. She quickly made her way over to where Merlin was standing and enveloped him on a hug. "How are you, my boy?"

"Cold."

Mary laughed. "Maybe you should help me here in the kitchens for the day. God knows I need the help and you the food." She poked his ribs playfully. Mary was always trying to fatten Merlin. She claimed he was too thin and unhealthy.

"Would if I could," Merlin said, pulling away from her comfortable embrace. "But I am needed elsewhere."

The cook nodded but grabbed a roll off a neighboring plate. "Here, eat up." She placed the steaming roll into his hands. "You need all the nourishment you can get running after that king of ours."

Merlin took a bite of the roll. It was heavenly and he told Mary as much. Thanking her for the roll, he snatched Arthur's tray of food and a pitcher of water and exited the kitchens with one final "good-bye". The chill of the hallway was unpleasant compared to the heated kitchens so Merlin walked as quickly as he could back to the king's chambers while trying not to spill any of the food or drink.

Upon entering the room he nearly crashed into George, who was leaving. The shorter servant nodded at Merlin and continued on his way down the hall. Turning, Merlin placed the food and drink on the table in front of a fully clothed Arthur. "Feeling warmer?" he asked the King.

"Yes, the bath did the trick."

Arthur pulled the plate before him closer to his person. He began to eat while his manservant filled a goblet full of water for him to drink. Between mouthfuls Arthur said, "George will clear up. You should probably start your chores so you can attend to Lord Harris before you get into trouble for being too late."

"Alright." Merlin made a detour on his way to the door, snatching up his freshly dried jacket from beside the fireplace and putting it on before stooping down to gather the pile of dirty laundry. "See you later."

Merlin then made his way to the laundry rooms to drop off Arthur's clothing. As he entered the tightly packed room he made his presence known to its occupants; "Good morning, ladies!"

The fifteen seamstresses and laundry maids looked up from their work and cheerfully addressed the young man who had entered their domain. One voice rose above the chorus and said, "Merlin, how lovely to see you. What horrible things does King Arthur have planned for you today that you would grace us with presence?"

Merlin turned and cheekily grinned at the questioner. "Now, Emily, you know better to ask me that unless you want me to never leave the room while reciting the obnoxiously long lost of chores."

Emily, a middle-aged seamstress with lovely blonde hair that perfectly framed her heart-shaped face, laughed. "Honestly, Merlin, you know that would be the very reason I asked. Us ladies get quite bored down here and we all enjoy your company."

The other ladies murmured and nodded in agreement.

"How could I deny such lovely company?" Merlin complimented. A few of the younger girls blushed. "In fact, if I finish my chores early and have time, I promise to come back and tell you some stories about our _beloved_ king." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, implying that the story was not one that praised Arthur but rather told of his less flattering moments that few witnessed. The ladies laughed and chorused their approval of the arrangement; they loved Merlin's stories and treated them as a greedy merchant would horde gold, for Merlin's story telling was a rare occurrence but when it did transpire you could not miss such an event. Handing off the dirty clothing to Emily, Merlin bid the group a jovial good-bye - which was met in kind – and went on his way to the armory.

The armory was empty and Merlin, for the first time in the morning, had a few moments to himself and his thoughts. The gangly servant moved the cleaning rag in rhythmic circles while polishing Arthur's breastplate, humming a tune to himself. Merlin would never admit it but polishing armor was by far his favorite chore. It was a calming, thoughtless task. An hour later, Merlin found himself finishing the last coat of polish on the hilt of Arthur's sword. "Done," he said to himself, proud of his accomplishment. Carefully placing the weapon back on its rack and straightening up his cleaning supplies, Merlin left the armory made his way to attend to Lord Harris.

Not five minutes later Merlin found himself outside the visiting Lord's chambers. Before knocking he sucked in a cavernous breath, trying to calm his nerves. For he was nervous, it was rumored among servants that Lord Harris was temperamental and mean. And then, adopting his formal servant manners, which Arthur claimed he rarely saw, rapped on the thick, wooden door with a closed fist.

After a moment's pause a deep, rumbling voice sounded through the door. "Enter."

Taking one last deep breath, Merlin pushed open the door and strode into the room. Spying Lord Harris slumped in a chair by the fire's side he approached the noble. Then, remembering to bow before the king's quest, said, "Good morning, my lord. I am Merlin. I am here to replace your servant until he recovers from his illness."

Sharp, critical eyes watched the raven-haired youngster in front of him. Lord Harris frowned at the warlock, his dark eyebrows contracted into a steady glare. Noticing the sudden change in demeanor, Merlin inquired, "My lord, is something the matter?"

"You seem familiar to me, boy. Have we met?"

"Informally, my lord. I am King Arthur's personal manservant and I seldom leave his side."

The frown disappeared. "Ah, yes. Now I remember, you greeted me with the king upon my arrival in Camelot."

"You are correct, my lord."

The noble then stood and his full height was revealed. The rumors that the maids whispered in the corridors did not lie; the man before Merlin was tall – even taller than the young sorcerer – and his strong build made him seem to be a small giant. Lord Harris' massive hand ran through his jet blank locks, pausing slightly at the graying temples before continuing down to massage his bearded chin. "Well – Merlin was it? -"

The boy in question nodded.

"- I seem to be running low on wood for my hearth. Fetch some more. When you return we will set to work on other things." Lord Harris then waved his hand in dismissal, cueing Merlin to bow and mumble, "My lord", before exiting the room.

Once in the hall Merlin slumped against the wall and huffed. "Well that went better than I expected," he told himself. Then stuffing his hands deep into his jacket's pockets, the warlock grinned and strolled down the corridor to fetch some firewood.

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_A/N:_ **Chapter one done! Don't fret, my dear reader, it gets much better. I just needed to set the mood and atmosphere for the story. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Please Review!**


	2. Healing Magic

_A/N:_** Thank you so much for the immediate response! I'm glad to see so many people interested in my story. Because of this I decided not to wait my normal week before updating but posted chapter two much sooner. **

**It also seemed fitting to update early because I had a snow day today! A SNOW DAY! I now when you are thinking, "How could you possibly have a snow day when its only a few days away from May?" Well, living in upstate New York you get used to some crazy weather. One day its 80 degrees and the next it snows so much you have a snow day. I can't complain too much. But I take this as a sign since I am writing a story about wintertime and, right after I get a spectacular response from my audience, there is snow!**

**It's a sign I tell you! So I have no choice but to post the next chapter of Merlin's tale. But don't get used to it… I will usually update in weekly intervals.**

**But you should know, faithful reader, that I never leave a story unfinished. If it seems like I have disappeared off the face of the earth and neglected to update it is not true that I will not finish the story. Not even kidnapping aliens, magical beasts, and/or vengeful super villains will keep me from finishing a story!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I wish I owned _Merlin_… but I don't.

* * *

**Chapter 2 ('Heeling' Magic)***

Fetching firewood was not the most spectacular event that one may believe it to be – if one does believe such a thing – and within twenty minutes Merlin had returned to Lord Harris' chambers with his arms full of lumber. Unable to knock on the door because both his hands occupied the burden, the servant, after checking that the coast was clear, silently nudged the door open with his magic so he could enter the room without putting down his load.

"Lord Harris?" Merlin called out as he entered the room.

Silence met his ears.

"My lord?"

Suddenly, a massive hand grabbed Merlin's right arm, clamping down hard. Merlin yelped, both in pain and surprise. Spinning around to face his attacker a log from the bundle he was carrying slipped from his grip and smashed into his left foot. Merlin cried out for a second time and desperately clung to the load he carried as not to drop more. His assailant gripped his arm harder at his outcry. The secret sorcerer gasped in pain for a second time. Merlin forced his eyes to meet the owner of the hands assaulting him and came face-to-face with Lord Harris.

The giant man pulled the smaller male closer to him and snarled, "Never enter my chambers without knocking, boy."

Merlin nodded, terrified of the man before him.

Waiting for a vocal response, Lord Harris squeezed the raven-haired sorcerer's slim arm even harder. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

The hand released his arm but only to proceed upward and make contact with Merlin face. The force of the blow caused Merlin's head snap to the left. He stumbled back stumble slightly.

"Yes _what_?"

"Yes, _my lord_," came the strangled howl.

The massive hands pushed the abused manservant toward the hearth with the instruction, "Leave the wood, and then get out!"

Merlin rushed forward to comply. Setting the wood down, as gently as he could without dropping more, Merlin bowed to the seething noble and rushed from the room. Two corridors away he stopped running and ducked into a shadowed doorway. Slumping against the wall, Merlin began to focus on nursing his throbbing appendage. Slowly, as not to aggravate his injury, he pulled off his boot and sock to reveal an already bruising foot. He swore silently. The warlock pulled his sock and boot back on, because his foot was beginning to chill. Then Merlin slowly proceeded, with a slight limp, to Gaius' chambers to have him look at it.

Now Merlin was not ignorant of the social mechanics of castle life. He was well aware that nobles sometimes beat their servants and insubordinates. He had even witnessed such an event when a stable hand was unable to control the horse a council member was sitting on. The horse threw the nobleman, who then, in turn, beat the boy with the horse crop that he carried. Merlin had escorted the bloodied child to Gaius and the matter was never discussed again. Arthur even used to torment servants and peasants. Merlin could vividly remember the day he met Arthur in the marketplace of the lower town. The prince had been using a defenseless peasant boy as a moving target for knife throwing practice. But Arthur had changed for the better and Merlin considered himself fortunate to have such a good master and friend.

In fact, recently, Arthur had passed a law stating that if a noble physically exercised his or her power over their servants then that lord or lady could be brought before a council to be judged. But in order to be brought to council significant evidence had to be presented before the king. This new law slowly brought more equality to servants, permitting them some small rights. This allowed servants to be treated with more respect, rather than like slaves or indentured help. Since the law's passing, only one case of an abusive lord had made it to council. Luckily, there had been enough evidence to convict the lord and make him pay reparations to the injured servant and her family. However, many other cases never made it to council because of the lack of evidence or the firing and/or disappearance of the victim.

Unfortunately, while it was perfectly applicable for nobles and servants in Camelot, not all could benefit form this new law. Many nobles, especially those who lived outside everyday interaction with the king, remained unchecked about their torment of insubordinates. Similarly, a victim of abuse from outside of Camelot would usually have to travel great distances to seek an audience with the king and request a council – and for many servants this was either impossible or improbable.

At the moment, Merlin was not particularly concerned about the law, let alone remembering it. He was far more troubled about his own predicament.

The suffering servant was disturbed and scared. Not particularly by the fact that Lord Harris hid struck him but rather by the sudden mood change and violent behaviors that erupted from a man who was pleasant and calm not twenty minutes earlier. Now don't get the wrong impression, Merlin was indeed intimidated by the man, but he had been hit before – by either a good-natured Arthur, a knight at training, or one of the many numerous bandits and sorcerers that he had encountered over the years serving under Arthur – so he was used to it, sort of.

Perhaps it was the anxiety or the stress of being locked indoors combined with Merlin not knocking that caught the noble off guard and made him act out rashly. It was possible. But just to be sure Merlin vowed to tread on eggshells while around the visiting noble until he departed back from whence he came.

Lost to his own musings, Merlin failed to notice Sir Gwaine approaching him. Unlike the rest of the castle the commoner knight was not as irritable due to the snow. Well, he was at first when he discovered the tavern was to be closed until the snow melted, but that changed when he remembered his secret stash of mead and wine that he had been hoarding in his room for "emergencies such as these".

"Merlin," the knight called out.

Startled from his thoughts the man in question looked up at Gwaine. He smiled when he recognized the man who interrupted him to be his good friend. His troubles and thoughts were momentarily forgotten and he responded to Gwaine in kind. But Gwaine interrupted his greeting with a question. "Why are you limping?"

"I dropped a log on my foot," Merlin half-lied, a blush coloring his high pale cheeks.

Gwaine laughed, long and hard. "Only you, my friend, would do such a thing and come away with such a terrific injury," the knight commented good-naturedly. Merlin's blush grew darker with his embarrassment at the validity of his friend's statement.

The commoner then playfully punched Merlin's right arm. What the knight failed to notice was Merlin's wince in pain as the closed fist connected perfectly with the now forming bruise on his arm, directly where Lord Harris had roughly grabbed him.

Merlin shrugged his slim shoulders. "Yeah, well, you know me," He grinned weakly through his pain.

"Yes, I do." Gwaine laughed again. "Now, come have a drink with me. I'm sure whatever Arthur has you doing can wait an hour or two."

"I'm actually waiting on Lord Harris until his ill servant regains full health," Merlin told his drinking friend. He then added, "I haven't seen Arthur since breakfast."

"Oh," Gwaine said, sounding terribly disappointed. "Then I guess I best be off. Talk to you another time then?"

"Of course, Gwaine."

The bearded man smiled and waved over his shoulder as he continued down the hall in the direction Merlin had just come. A merry tune could be heard emitting the knight's lips as he turned the corner and left Merlin's earshot.

Sighing, the warlock persisted to head to the physician's chambers but found them empty when he arrived. Guessing that Gaius was out visiting an ailing patient, Merlin shuffled around the room trying to quickly locate a pulpous to apply to his bruises. Finding it behind a bottle of hemlock, Merlin limped to his room and snapped the door shut behind him. He settled himself on the bed and gently tore off his boot. Once his sock joined the discarded boot on the messy floor, Merlin applied the paste to his ballooning foot. Then the warlock muttered a few guttural words in the Old Religion. Immediately a tingling sensation spread throughout his foot and the appendage returned to its normal size. Admiring the simple spell's handiwork, he applied more paste to the still present bruise, along with the hand sized one forming on his arm.

Merlin was not the most competent magician when it came to healing magic. He could only perform the simplest healing incantations with the up most confidence. While he had reduced the swelling of his foot he could not eliminate all of the evidence of Lord Harris' violent emotional explosion.

Once all his wounds were covered with the medicine, Merlin flopped back on the cot. His adrenaline slowly ebbed away and exhaustion replaced it. Falling victim to his own tiredness, Merlin's numb body and heavy eyelids betrayed him and he slipped into a light slumber.

* * *

_A/N:_ **Poor Merlin! I hate injuring Merlin but it is for the betterment of the story. (Please don't hate me.) But don't worry, more is to come… and soon Arthur will defiantly make an appearance and save the day.**

**Yay, Gwaine! He is by far my favorite knight. Followed closely by Leon, Lancelot, Percival, and Elyan. Okay, so I like all the knights. Who wouldn't? I don't know how much I plan to showcase the Brotherhood of the Round Table but I know some of them will defiantly make an appearance, Gwaine especially because of his close friendship with Merlin.**

*Check out the pun in the chapter title… **'Heeling' Magic**. Since in the chapter Merlin injures his foot and he has to heal it I decided to act a little 'punny' and give chapter title some character. I hope some people enjoyed that and don't think I'm just horrible at spelling. Oh well. If you did notice the pun before I said anything let me know. Or if you really like it let me know and I'll begin hide little puns in some/all of the chapter titles.

**Please Review! **

**Pretty please…with a cherry, sprinkles, and hot fudge on top. Better yet, if you want me to try any 'superior' ice-cream toppings that you want to recommend then let me know with a comment. :)**

**Just make it easier on yourself and comment anyway. Thanks! **


	3. The Mysteriously Missing Manservant

_A/N:_ **Wow, people actually read author notes… I didn't know that. I thought everyone skips over them and goes right to the story (at least, that's what I do). Huh, I guess I wrong. Oh well, I guess its for the better that people read everything I write. I'll try to keep in interesting. **

**Anywho, I received a number of really yummy ice-cream topping suggestions. Some that I received are:**

Luckystar27 **: "You should totally try golden oreos over strawberry ice-cream. A match made in confection heaven ^_^"**

TheImpossiblePen **: "I'll review, if you add those mini marshmallows, maybe some butterscotch chips? :D"**

cristina reid **: "I want some vanilla Merlin with some strawberry Arthur on top XD"**

**I actually tried all the toppings readers suggested. (Why? Because I have no life and really like ice-cream.) But my favorite topping was the golden oreos over strawberry ice-cream reviewed by **Luckystar27**. Thank you so much, it was delicious. I would totally recommend trying it.**

**Despite everything I told you about updating weekly I almost posted early. Almost! It took all of my being not to post this chapter before the week was up. But I made it. **

**I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ One day _Merlin_ will be mine! Bwahahahahaha.

* * *

**Chapter 3 (The Mysteriously Missing Manservant)**

"Merlin!"

Merlin sat up quickly upon hearing his name being frantically called. "What? What is it?" he exclaimed, slightly panicked.

Gaius stuck his head through the door and responded, "It's almost time for supper. Will you be joining me?"

"Yes, Gaius, I will right there." With a sigh Merlin slumped back on the bed. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched, his back cracking loudly. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed the young man stood. A shooting pain erupted from his foot and raced up his leg. Merlin groaned and sank back into the warm confines of his cot, cradling the injury in his slender hands. Suddenly Merlin gasped – not in pain but in remembrance. _Lord Harris!_ It was almost time for supper and he should be serving the visiting noble his meal.

"Oh, no!" Merlin rushed from his room as fast as his injured foot could take him. "I can't stay for supper, Gaius! But please save me something to eat later," he shouted over his shoulder as he exited the room into the hallway.

Hurrying to the kitchens Merlin ran into Gwaine again – literally.

"Merlin!" the felled knight exclaimed, picking himself and the slim servant from the cold stone floor. "Now are you ready for a drin-"

"Can't talk! See you later," his raven-haired friend interrupted, and, leaving the confused knight behind, ran down the last corridor to the kitchen.

Hot air rushed to meet his face as he opened the door. Merlin cautiously stepped into the sweltering room and spotted Mary. He called out the woman's name.

She turned, frowning, but when she saw it was Merlin who had call for her, and not some other kitchen hand, she smile and made her way to him from across the crowded kitchen. "What can I do for you, Merlin?"

"I need Lord Harris' supper," he explained.

"Ah, yes. I just finished it." She walked over to a table laden with food piled on dishes. Grabbing one of the plates in the back she hefted it and brought it to Merlin. "Here it is," she said, placing the dish in his hand.

Gripping the plate, Merlin nodded his thanks and began to turn away.

"Wait," Mary called to his retreating form. "Lord Harris always drinks cider, not wine, with his supper."

"Oh," Merlin said, looking at the jug of wine he had just plucked off a table. He replaced it and picked up another pitcher full of cider instead. "Thank you, Mary!" he called back. "I owe you!"

The stout cook grinned. "I will have to exchange all these tips for favors one day! It seems you owe me a little too much." Mary replied. And then, without so much as a "good-bye", she turned back to the ovens and began stirring a giant pot of stew.

Carefully, balancing the jug of cider and plate of food, Merlin exited the kitchens. He proceeded at a much slower pace through the corridors, so as not the drop any of the lord's meal. With each step Merlin's foot throbbed and shot tendrils of pain up and down his leg. Running to the kitchens had not helped his foot any and it was growing more painful to walk on. Merlin began to worry that he had possible fractured the bone or even broken it.

Sometime later Merlin reached Lord Harris' doorway. Balancing the plate and jug on one hand, he raised the other and knocked on the door three times in rapid succession. Seconds ticked by and a cold sweat began to run down the nervous servant's back. Just as he was about the knock again Lord Harris' deep, rich voice floated through the door. "Come in."

After taking a shaky breath, Merlin opened the door and plastered a smile to his face. Closing the door behind him, the thin man carried the meal to the chamber's table and said, "Your supper is here, my lord."

The nobleman looked up from the parchment he had been reading at the desk across the room. "Ah, Merlin, perfect timing. Thank you."

Merlin's grin faltered slightly at the man's genuinely cheerful voice and familiar greeting. Bowing low to hide his puzzlement, Merlin acknowledged the man's thanks, "My lord."

The lord strode over to the laden table and gracefully – such grace that Merlin had deemed impossible for a man of Lord Harris' size – sat down. Warily, the nobleman placed a napkin on his lap and eyed the food in front of him hungrily. Mary had out done herself for the visiting lord; a generous slab of venison took up most of the plate but was accompanied with barley bread, steamed vegetables, and a small cup of pudding for dessert. Turning his attention to the drink Merlin had brought with the meal Lord Harris smiled. "Cider," he happily exclaimed. "Wonderful. Pour me a drink, Merlin."

Quick to comply, Merlin charitably poured the man a goblet full of cider. Then, standing just out of sight to the right side of the noble, like a good servant would, Merlin stared at his feet as the lord slowly consumed his supper. The lord said nothing while he ate and Merlin found himself beginning to relax and think that this morning's explosion had been a freak stunt brought on by anxiety and cabin fever. After Lord Harris finished his second glass of cider, Merlin stepped forward to top it off, but when his left hand moved toward the goblet it was snatched out of the air. Long, strong fingers curled around Merlin's wrist and it was wrenched away from the golden cup. "Leave it," the finger's owner growled. Biting his lip to stop from crying out, Merlin froze in terror. Slowly, Lord Harris released the captive wrist. Hesitantly slinking backwards, as not the startle the now aggressive man, Merlin withdrew from the table. Five minutes later the nobleman finished his meal. "That was excellent," he told Merlin. "Give my regards to the cook."

"Of course, my lord," Merlin responded evenly, trying to keep any tremor from his voice.

The stuffed lord stood and walked back to the desk to continue his reading. "Merlin," the nobleman beaconed.

Stalking warily up to the desk, Merlin inquired, "Yes, my lord?"

Settling himself into the big, comfortable chair Lord Harris pointedly looked at Merlin and instructed, "I do not require your assistance until tomorrow morning, so clean up and retire for the night. I do, however, get up fairly early in the morning and would like you to bring my breakfast just before dawn. Do you understand?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. Now be off with you." The lord swatted his hand at the servant, signaling him to go about his duties and then leave.

Merlin glanced around the room. It was fairly clean, nothing littered the floor; only the unmade bed caused an eyesore to the room's perfect cleanliness. Peeking back at the noble seated behind the desk, Merlin noticed Lord Harris was too engrossed with whatever he was reading to pay attention to him. So the young man trekked over to the bed and quickly straightened the sheets and covers so the bed was well made. Then Merlin spun around and strode back to the table and began to clear it. Once the table was clear, and all the dirty dishes were in his arms, he exited the lord's room and proceeded back to the kitchens to drop off the dirty dishes to be cleaned. After dumping the dishes on some poor kitchen hand, Merlin sought out Mary and told her of Lord Harris' odd request for having breakfast so early. Mary acknowledged that the lord had been regularly asking for his breakfast that early every day. She also told him that the lord did not like a warm breakfast and usually just ate fruits and bread with jam in the morning. The cook promised Merlin that the lord's breakfast would be waiting for him to pick up in the kitchens bright and early. Thanking the small woman for the hundredth time that day, Merlin then continued on his way.

Pushing open the door to the physician's chambers Merlin limped into the tightly packed room. "Gaius?" he called out.

From behind an extremely tall stack of papers and journals appeared the kindly old man that Merlin would consider a father. "Yes, my boy?"

"Did you save me any supper? I am awful hungry." His stomach growled in agreement.

"It's warming over the fire."

"Thank you."

Merlin quickly scooped some piping hot stew from the pot hanging over the fire into a clean bowl. He had barely eaten all day, just a little fruit for breakfast and a roll that Mary had given him earlier that morning. Seating himself at the table across from Gaius, the young warlock groaned as his sore muscles stretched.

"Long day?" Gaius questioned, amusement glittering in his tone.

"As you would not believe!" Merlin told him, mouth full.

"What did Arthur have you doing today?"

"Oh, it wasn't Arthur I was serving today," Merlin said, waving his spoon in the air.

Gaius frowned slightly and asked, "Really? Who were you serving?"

"Lord Harris," he told the old physician. "And you would not believe how early he expects me to get up tomorrow morning and serve him breakfast. It's ridiculous!"

"Not particularly," the older man chuckled, amused by the younger man's antics. "He comes from an agricultural estate that supplies Camelot with almost eighty percent of its grain. It would seem only fitting that he would rise as early as the farmers do." The physician paused while Merlin ate another bite of stew. "Wait. Why are you serving Lord Harris when you are Arthur's manservant?" Gaius asked confused.

Finishing his bite of stew Merlin replied, "His personal servant is ill. So Arthur lent me to Lord Harris until his recovers or he leaves. Why?"

"I have treated no sick servants in over two weeks. Surely Lord Harris' servant would have been sent to me if he was ailing."

Merlin stopped eating, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," the physician explained, "I have not treated the 'ill servant' of which you speak."

"Surely you must have forgotten!"

"I may be old but I never forget a patient."

Merlin set his spoon down. This news about the missing servant scared him. Where could a visiting noble's servant disappear? Why would the lord lie about his servant being sick if he had not been sent to the court physician to be treated? Grim about the sudden developments, Merlin lost his appetite. "I think I'm going to go the bed early," he muttered.

He picked up his bowl and spoon and deposited them with the pile of dirty dishes near the washing basin – mumbling a promise to Gaius to wash them tomorrow. He then turned to his room and entered it. Just as he had been about to close the door Gaius' voice called out, "I don't like idea of you serving Lord Harris." There was a slight pause before the voice said a little quieter, "Just be careful, Merlin."

"I will, Gaius," Merlin somberly responded. "Good night."

"Good night, my boy."

* * *

_A/N:_ **The plot thickens. Dun Dun Daaaaaaaa…**

Yay, another chapter done. *happy dance* I'm so excited that I got this out of the way. I plan to post the next chapter in a week's time, so keep you eye out for the update.

**Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and support. I love hearing from you guys. If you really like my **_**Merlin**_** stories then check out the one-shot I recently wrote entitled **"Destiny be Damned"**. Check it out! (And yes, I am shamelessly advertising my own stories. Lame, I know.)**

**Please Review!**


	4. Fed up

_A/N:_ **Yay! It's Monday. Time for an update…**

**Now some of you find it either incredibly odd or incredibly cool that I update my stories on a weekly basis no matter what. Yes, I know this is not the usual way people do it but it motivates me to always continue writing if I give myself a deadline. That way I always have a little more written then I have posted and if I fall behind there is no major crisis so I can still post something. For example, even though this will be the fourth chapter posted I already have nine chapters already written…**

I got a lot of reviews liking that I hide a pun into the title of Chapter Two so I decided to do it again. But the trick is this time I will not tell you what the pun is, so you'll have to review what you think it is. In the next chapter I will write in the author's note what the intended pun was.

**Sorry this chapter is so short. But don't worry; the next one is abnormally long.**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Why do I even bother?

* * *

**Chapter 4 (Fed Up)**

The next morning Merlin woke up freezing. Shivering violently the frail boy pulled his thin blanket closer to his cold torso. His slow, sleepy mind tried to recall why he had woken so early; a few seconds later he remembered, Lord Harris. Grumbling, Merlin maneuvered out of his cot to prepare to serve Lord Harris his morning meal before dawn.

Clutching his worn blanket around his slender shoulders, Merlin stumbled around the deathly cold room in search of his neck scarf and jacket. Merlin had thought it was cold yesterday but this morning was far colder. Halfway through the night the young man had woken shivering from the frigid temperature. But as cold as he was, he was far more tired and didn't want to leave his relatively warm bed to pull on an extra shirt. Now Merlin regretted not putting on more clothes before going to bed. He was positively numb all over. Luckily, he had had the forethought to wear his boots to bed to prevent his toes from becoming frost bitten and to protect his injury.

Finally locating his jacket on top of a pile of dirty linen, Merlin pulled it on over his red shirt. Then, after spotting his blue neck scarf and picking it up, he tied it firmly around his neck; flinching as the chilly fabric scratched at his cold, dry exposed skin. The tired servant left his room and quietly made his way to Gaius' sleeping form. Slowly, as not to startle the older man, Merlin draped his blanket over his mentor. He smiled softly. When he was sure that the physician was warm, Merlin silently entered the hallway and made his way to the kitchens.

Only a few kitchen hands were up this early. Mary was in the far corner kneading dough for fresh bread. To tired to try and make small talk Merlin walked over to a table that held a small bowl of fruit, a plate of bread and jam, and a small pitcher of water. Placing to bowl on the plate with the bread and jam so he could more easily carry the food, Merlin walked out of the kitchens. Exiting into the hallway Merlin noticed that through the window he could see the dawn beginning to break over the horizon. This meant that Lord Harris would be expecting Merlin to deliver his breakfast to him soon. Picking up his pace slightly Merlin climbed two flights of narrow stairs to make his way to the visitor's wing of the castle.

It was eerie walking down the empty corridors. The halls were always bustling with servants, guards, nobles, and knights. Even late into the evening the hallways were busy. But now, when it wasn't quite night or day, the castle was silent. Merlin's footsteps shattered the calm repose; each footfall echoing down the hall as a boot struck the icy stone. The cold made the silence feel sinister and it sent chills down Merlin's arms and back. His breath escaped his mouth in smoky tendrils of steam that caused the hairs on Merlin's neck stand on end. Quashing the feeling of impending doom, Merlin lightly rapped on the door at the end of the hall.

"Enter."

Gently pushing on the door it swung open. After shuffling through the doorway, Merlin nudged the door closed with his uninjured foot. It snapped shut behind him. Lord Harris emerged from behind the changing screen fully donned in dark brown trousers, a light blue shirt, and knee high leather boots.

The regal man crossed the room towards the table while saying, "You can place my breakfast over here, Merlin." Lord Harris motioned at the table indicating exactly where his morning meal should be set.

Nodding, Merlin walked to the table. However, he was not paying close enough attention to the ground and – with the 'luck' and 'grace' that only Merlin could possess – his foot found the single corner of upturned carpet in the whole room. His left foot caught and jerked, sending hot pain up Merlin's leg. The pain and surprise at the sudden unbalance caused the poor boy to call out. At the sudden shout, Lord Harris turned toward the falling manservant. Finally, losing all sense of balance, Merlin toppled to the floor. The food and drink he was holding jumped from his grip and spilled all down the front of the unsuspecting lord.

Huddled on the ground, trying to nurse his throbbing, inflamed foot, Merlin could not witness the expression of rage that over shadowed Lord Harris' face. And, with a cry of total aggravation and frustration, the giant man kicked his leather boot into the felled servant's ribs. Air rushed out of Merlin lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. The lord struck his ribs a second time. "You _idiot_! You. Worthless. Piece. Of. SHIT!" he screamed, kicking at the boy after each word.

Merlin wrapped his arms around his head to protect it and curled his body into a fetal position. "I'm sorry. I did mean to. I just tripped!" Merlin tried to reason, sobbing. Nevertheless the assault continued. "Please stop. Please," he begged. But the noble man wouldn't hear it.

Suddenly the kicking stopped. Merlin curled into a tighter ball, afraid to uncover his head and open his eyes. His breathing was quick and shallow.

Rough hands abruptly grabbed Merlin's own, prying them away from the boys face. Merlin still refused to open his eyes and look at the older man. However, when a sudden weight lowered itself on top of Merlin's body his eyes bugged open in shock. The enraged Lord Harris straddled the poor serving boy, hovering over the young servant's face. Massive hands wrapped themselves around Merlin's neck, effectively cutting off the warlock's air supply.

Frail hands grappled and clawed at the appendages squeezing the scarf-covered neck, trying desperately to pry them loose. He tried to call out but the lack of oxygen made the words catch in his throat. The slender body beneath the lord bucked and wiggled, trying to escape the suffocating hold. Legs flailed and kicked, but only met air.

Black spots began to speckle Merlin's vision. He suddenly became very lightheaded. The young man blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. The lack of oxygen suddenly caught up to Merlin; his legs stopped obeying his commands, falling limply to the ground, and his hands weakly grappled with the instruments of his suffocation. Merlin's body began to struggle less and less. Tiny hands finally fell away from their quest for air, lightly smacking the cold stone floor. Merlin futilely gasped for air but none came. And ultimately, after what felt like hours, the manservant gave into the darkness and passed out.

When Merlin woke he was still on the floor. Aware that he was breathing, the young man sucked in air greedily. He tried to sit up but his bruised ribs protested. But, ignoring every signal his body was sending, Merlin sat up anyway. Dizziness overcame him and he almost fainted again. After gasping for more air the lightheadedness disappeared. A shaking hand rose and began to massage an abused, bruised throat.

Merlin grimaced when he swallowed. His grimace quickly gave way to a bought of dry coughing; each racking cough agitated his throat even more. Eyes watering, Merlin surveyed the room. It was empty – no Lord Harris in sight. Once his coughing subsided, the young serving boy slowly picked himself up off the floor. His breathing became labored when Merlin's ribs refused to expand with each breath correctly. Two skinny arms snaked around the affronted stomach, protecting it.

Now that he was fully erect, Merlin started toward the door. But before he could reach the entryway the door slammed open, revealing the silhouette of a freshly dressed Lord Harris. Merlin squeaked in surprise and shuffled away from the giant man into a corner. Big, black boots clomped over to the cowering, injured manservant.

A deep commanding voice addressed Merlin, "Boy!"

"Y-yes, my l-lord?" Merlin stammered, desperately avoiding eye contact.

"Clean up this mess you have made." Lord Harris gestured to the spilled food and drink on the floor near the table. "Then leave. I will send for you when I require you next."

Merlin nodded his head franticly and edged his way passed the towering man. Retrieving some cleaning linen from the closet, the sorcerer began to mop up the splattered breakfast. After a few minutes of scrubbing the floor was immaculate. Merlin picked up the plate, bowl, and pitcher from the ground and stacked them carefully on top of one another. Placing the dirty rag on summit of the stack of dishes, Merlin slowly stood. One slender hand held the dishes while the other remained firmly wrapped around Merlin waist, supporting his ribs.

Just as he was about the reach for the knob of the door Lord Harris called out to the servant from his position behind the desk. "Merlin?"

Slightly startled by being addressed so familiarly, and more startled that he was addressed all together, Merlin turned toward Lord Harris and responded. "M-my lord?"

Fierce, smoldering black eyes locked with clear, innocent blue ones. "Do _not_ speak of what has happened this morning to anyone." There was no _'or else'_ tacked onto the end of the command but the injured servant could still clearly hear it.

Merlin gulped. Breaking eye contact, he responded, "O-of course, my lord." The young warlock then turned towards the door and opened it. Just as he was about to snap the door shut behind him Lord Harris called out to him a second time.

"Oh, and Merlin?"

Hunched shoulders tensed. "Yes, my lord?" the boy responded, not turning around.

"Send someone else up with my midday meal."

"Of course, Lord Harris. Whatever you wish." And Merlin, without waiting to be formally dismissed, closed the door firmly behind him. At a snail's pace, he walked down the hall trying to distance himself as far away from the visiting lord's chambers as possible.

* * *

_A/N:_ **Oh, no! What's going to happen? *dramatic gasp* Who will stop this atrocity and rescue Merlin…? **

**But never fear! Arthur and the knights are not far behind… the Brotherhood will save their own and put a stop to the villain, no matter the cost.**

**Seriously though, I feel awful that I have to hurt Merlin. Its just I don't have a story if I don't hurt him. Okay, I'd have a story it would just be incredibly dull and there would be no real chance to have Arthur save the day and show Merlin that he really cares for his friend. Also, a little drama never hurt anyone (except Merlin! XD). All right, I'll stop goofing around. This story is solemn and somber, and it will stay that way…**

Okay, so I hid another pun in the chapter title but I am not telling you, my dear reader, what it is. You'll have to review and let me know what out think it means. I'll post what the pun was intended as in the beginning of next chapter.

**Now you, my faithful reader, make writing this story worth my while and all the more enjoyable. (And I will continue saying it every chapter) I love hearing from everyone. Thank you for all the support!**

**Look for my update next Monday!**

**Please Review!**

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**(I love exclamation points!)**

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	5. Cold Crypts

_A/N:_ **Wow, who knew I had to wait a whole week until Monday so I could update?**

**I'm happy to hear that my Monday updates give some of my readers something to look forward to on the most infamous day of the week. Personally, I don't mind Mondays… its Tuesdays I hate! I mean, come on, they're totally pointless! Every other day of the week have some sort of purposeful function but Tuesday is just… there, lazing about. Sundays are a day for family; Monday is a day for telling stories about the weekend and complaining about how much stuff there is to do all week; Wednesdays are hump days were you can say that you are almost done with the week; Thursday you start planning for the weekend; Friday is, well, Friday; Saturdays are a day for friends… but Tuesday has nothing. What do you do on Tuesdays? (This is partly a rhetorical question but feel free to answer it.) Nothing! Its is a meaningless, worthless day.**

**But I digress. On to more important things than listening to me rant about the days of the week…** **the explanation for last chapter's pun is (in my own terms, someone else might differ in opinion):**

_Fed up – (adj.) extremely annoyed or upset about a certain situation or treatment._

There are many possible explanations that could be applied to the pun "fed up". Firstly, Merlin was ordered to bring Lord Harris' food up from the kitchens – hence "fed up". Secondly, when Merlin tripped over the carpet the food flew up out of his grip… once again the pun would be functional here. Thirdly, Lord Harris was already disappointed with Merlin's behavior and the incident with the breakfast only caused the nobleman to become "fed up", therefore he beat Merlin.

**So, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. And, as promised, this chapter is much longer than the previous one.**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Why do I even bother?

* * *

**Chapter 5 (Cold Crypts)**

Stairs posed a problem for the injured warlock. Not only was he having trouble breathing but his injured foot began to act up again. It took Merlin at least fifteen minutes to descend the flight of stairs to the kitchens in order to drop off the dirty dishes. Luckily most of the castle-dwellers were still asleep or, if anyone was up, they refused the leave the warm confines of their rooms.

Merlin was able to quickly hand off the unclean plate, bowl, and pitcher to a kitchen hand and arrange for another servant, Liam, to serve Lord Harris his midday meal. Once finished arranging this replacement, the young magician swiftly escaped into the empty hallways of the castle. Barring his teeth in another grimace, Merlin continued on his way up to the physician's chambers with the honest intention of borrowing some bandages to bind his ribs before going back to sleep.

Just as he entered the last corridor before reaching his chambers, Merlin ran into a disheveled Leon supporting a very drunk Gwaine.

"Merlin!" the commoner knight exclaimed. "You missed – _hiccup_ – the best party – _hiccup_ – EVER!"

"Pay him no mind, Merlin," Sir Leon told him, glaring at the man in his arms. "By 'party' he means himself and a case of ale, and by 'ever' he means during the last few hours."

Merlin laughed at the older knight's comments but abruptly stopped when it began to make his ribs ache more. Instead he covered up his laugh with a cough. "What brings you to this side of the castle?" Merlin inquired. "Gwaine's chambers are on the other side of the courtyard."

"Oh, he doesn't need a bed. He needs a potion to sober him up," Sir Leon explained. "We have guard duty in an hour and if King Arthur sees him like this then we shall both suffer his wrath."

"Well, we can't have that can we? Who would protect Camelot from the deadly onslaught of snow and wind? Certainly we would all perish!" the manservant chided good-naturedly.

"He's right, – _hiccup_ – mate," Gwaine remarked, playfully poking the nobleman in the side. "I can't die! Who would drink – _hiccup_ – all the wine then?"

Leon sighed and shook his head, silently dismissing his serving friend's sarcasm. "Yes, well, come on then." Then, grunting under the weight of the wasted knight, the concerned nobleman repositioned his grip on Gwaine and continued down the hallway to Gaius' chambers. Merlin followed slowly behind.

"Merlin, would you get the door?"

The suffering servant complied.

"Thank you."

Gaius looked up from his place beside the fireplace when the two knights and Merlin entered. Glancing briefly at Gwaine's condition, the old physician turned back to tend the fire before addressing Leon, "What does Sir Gwaine require this time?"

Leon unceremoniously dumped Gwaine onto an empty stool. "Just a potion to sober the bloke up."

"More like a good smack to the head," Merlin grumbled as he walked by.

"Oi!" The affronted knight called out. "I – _hiccup_ – resent that."

While Gaius and Leon's attentions were placed solely on the drunken knight, Merlin slipped by them and, grabbing a few bandages and a potion for soreness, snuck into his room. Silently snapping the door behind him, the young warlock allowed the mask of pain to overshadow his face. Once again his arm snaked around his body and held his aching ribs. Waddling over to the meager cot in the corner, Merlin downed the potion and tossed the empty vile on the bed next to him as he sat down. Merlin sat for a few minutes allowing the numbing sensation spread throughout his body before attempting to take off his shirt to bind his ribs.

Once the pain became a dull throbbing, Merlin shucked off his jacket and grabbed the bottom hem of the thin shirt. He hissed as his ribs screamed when he raised his hands, with the shirt in them, over his head. Then Merlin tightly wound long stripes of bandages around his purpling torso. The servant took a shaky breathe before wiping away the salty water that had leaked from his eyes.

Merlin tediously redressed himself before reclining back onto his cot. Weariness overtook his body and Merlin closed his eyes to take a nap.

* * *

Merlin didn't know how long had passed but the potion had worn off by the time he woke up. Swiveling his head toward the window, Merlin spied the sun and noted that it had risen to its peak; it was noontime. The young man closed his eyes, hoping to take another nap, but his stomach protested loudly.

Merlin ran a hand through his hair and sat up. It no longer hurt to breathe but the throbbing in his torso had not died down. Making his way to the door, Merlin gently pushed it open and was greeted with cheerful Gaius and a warm meal. Merlin grinned meekly and placed himself at his usual spot at the table across from older man.

The two ate in relative silent before Gaius commented, "What's that on your throat? Are those bruises?"

"What?" Merlin questioned, placing a hand on his semi-exposed throat. "Oh, no," he lied quickly. "It's dirt. I haven't bathed in awhile."

The physician nodded but still suspiciously eyed the boy before him. Merlin gulped nervously and hiked up his neck scarf higher so it would cover his entire neck and throat, hiding any bruises that had begun to form.

Silence once again engulfed the room.

"Merlin?"

Merlin looked up cautiously from his half-eaten bowl of stew. "Yes?"

Gaius grabbed a vile of brownish liquid and passed it to his ward. "Would you take this up to King Arthur when you are done eating? He has a slight cough."

"Of course. I'll take it now; I'm not too hungry anyway." Merlin pushed this bowl away from his seated person and stood.

The manservant slowly navigated the hallways. In his injured, weakened state it took Merlin more than twenty minutes to reach Arthur's chambers, as opposed to the usual ten-minute trek. Just before entering the king's room Merlin repositioned his scarf once again so as to make sure that it covered any possible bruising that had formed from Lord Harris' cruel assault. Then the raven-haired servant confidently strode into the chambers without knocking or even announcing his presence – after all, such was expected from him and even condoned as normal.

"Merlin," said a slightly surprised Arthur. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking to see that the rumors were true," Merlin coolly responded.

"Rumors?" the baffled king questioned. "What rumors?"

"That you have remained a clotpole despite me not being here," the young servant chuckled. "It appears that Gwaine owes me a drink. He said that you were just a prat around me but it seems, once again, that you are and always will be a prat regardless the company you keep."

Arthur did not join in Merlin's laugher. Instead he grabbed the wine-filled goblet beside him and, frowning at the cheeky servant, lobbed it at his head. As always Arthur's throw was perfectly aimed, though not at Merlin's head. Arthur would not dream of actually hurting his servant companion. Whenever they spared he always drew back his punches and sword swings, and whenever he threw things at the boy he made sure they were always harmless objects…well, if they were harmful – like a goblet for instance – Arthur constantly threw with deadly precision _away_ from Merlin so the object would land in the general vicinity or the lower, more cushioned extremities of the servant so as to cause least damage.

The goblet soared through the air and struck Merlin in the torso. Arthur, of course, did not know that Merlin had injured ribs so when the suffering servant screamed through gritted teeth when the chalice made contact with his chest Arthur simply attributed it Merlin being, well, Merlin – his usual dramatic self.

But the goblet indeed hurt the young warlock. The chalice's force actually struck one rib so hard, and with such exact precision, that it broke the rib. Similarly, it ripped away some of the bandage holding the ribs and cut him, all the while spilling wine down Merlin's front. The metallic clang of the goblet hitting the floor and Merlin's shout masked the resounding crack of the rib and the red wine veiled the blood seeping from the newly received laceration; all this made Arthur none the wiser to Merlin's actual condition.

"Don't be such a girl, _Mer_lin," chided the ignorant king. "What did you really come here for? Surely you didn't already offend our guest, Lord Harris, with your atrocious serving skills? If so, I am in the right mind to throw you into the stocks regardless the weather."

"Gaius sent me to give this to you," gasped the suffering sorcerer, handing the king the vial of brownish liquid his mentor gave him. And, desperately trying not to burst into tears in front of Arthur, he continued, "He said you had a cough."

"Ah, yes," the royal commented, taking the bottled potion from Merlin. "Tell Gaius I say 'thank you'."

Merlin nodded. And, with his teeth barred and jaw set, the boy quickly escaped from the room before Arthur could ask him to do anything or ask questions to why Merlin was suddenly choking on his own blood.

Coming to an empty alcove Merlin ducked inside. Desperate to alleviate the pain and heal himself the raven-haired warlock whispered an incantation from the Old Religion. Blood dribbled passed his lips as down his chin as he gasped, "Bedyrne ús! Astyre ús panonweard!" Golden eyes flashed behind their hooded lids. Winds swirled around Merlin, encompassing him in a cocoon of frigid air before teleporting him into a deserted room in the castle's crypt.

Now completely safe from prying eyes, the young sorcerer turned his attention to his broken rib and internal bleeding. Placing his open palm on his injured side Merlin started reciting a spell before suffocating on his own blood. Coughing harshly, the boy tried to rid his lungs of the red liquid. Eventually, he recovered and molten eyes flickered as he chanted, "Gestepe hole! Purhhæle." A sickening crunch was heard as the broken rib realigned itself into its original position.

Coughing up still more blood Merlin managed to gasp out another spell to correct his internal bleeding. "Ahlúttre pá séocnes. Purhhæle bræd," he garroted. Suddenly the choking stopped and Merlin was finally able to breathe normally.

Then, tracing the bleeding gash with a slim finger, the warlock chanted a third and final incantation: "Purhhæle licsar min." Hot pain flared up his side as the laceration stitched itself together.

Fatigue rapidly overtook the overworked sorcerer. Merlin was not the most competent magician when it came to healing magic. Performing even the simplest healing spells caused him to tire easily, but _three_, complicated healing incantations over the course of a few minutes left Merlin on the verge of passing out.

Merlin stumbled awkwardly to the side. Catching himself on the scarcophogus of a deceased monarch, the young man swallowed dryly. Blood and bile threatened to expel and it took all of Merlin's will power to keep them at bay.

Merlin wanted nothing more than to return to his room and sleep. But a sudden noise echoed throughout the desolate crypt causing him to freeze. The noise gradually grew, changing from an unidentifiable clatter to distinct footsteps and voices.

"I could've sworn I heard a noise, Jarvis," a deep, rich voiced echoed.

A second voice – Jarvis – responded, "No one would be down here, it's deathly cold. Besides, this area is off limits. Everybody knows that."

The voices rose in volume. A torch's glow created dancing shadows as it was raised high above the heads of the two warmly clad guards that turned the corner into the crypt. Panicked that the approaching guards would spot him, Merlin scrambled away from the stone archway that posed as the entryway to the crypt. Desperately looking around for another means of escape, the tired warlock spotted a small oak directly to his left. Crawling behind the tombs and headstones of dead royals, Merlin quickly made his way to the door. He opened it and hurried inside.

Pressing an ear to the now closed door, Merlin could hear the bulky steps of the two guards searching the crypts for the supposed intruder. After a few minutes Jarvis' voice erupted right outside the oak door Merlin was leaning against. He clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent and exclamation of surprise.

"The place is empty. You were probably just hearing the wind."

"I guess."

"Come on; let's go back to the fire. It's freezing down here."

The footsteps moved away from the door and echoed through the crypt before finally fading into the distance. Exhaling the breath he didn't realize he was holding, Merlin slumped fully aligned with the door. All the adrenaline he experience from the panic of possibly being revealed dissolved. Fatigue made the tired manservant's eyelids very heavy. Merlin felt as if he could pass out right then and there from exhaustion. But the cold, frigid air kept him slightly wake and aware.

Swiveling his head to inspect the mysterious chamber, Merlin discovered the room he entered seemed to be an old chapel for the Old Religion, no longer used and destroyed by King Uther during the Purge. A small alter was pushed back against the wall. It was decoratively carve with signs and symbols of ancient magical beasts and prophetic incantations. Benches littered the floor, either broken or tipped on their sides. The remnants of a throne lay smashed in the center of the chapel. Its sturdy wood violently splintered over exploded cushions and torn cloth. Dust and cobwebs covered everything and – through the dim light cast from a small stained-glass window located above the alter – created a mystical haze over the room.

Glancing around the room, Merlin spotted a heap of rags in the far corner. Thinking he could nap in the chapel as opposed to climbing all the way back to his chambers, the drowsy servant made his way over to the pile of cloth – he hoped to use it as a blanket and mattress.

As he approached the heap Merlin noted that the pile consisted of clothing, not rags, as he had originally thought. He lowered himself next to the clothing and touched them. The mound of cloth did not compress underneath the applied pressure of Merlin's hand. Instead the hand met resistance, as if the clothing was placed over mass of stones. Frowning slightly, the weary warlock tugged at the clothing, but again his efforts were met with resistance. Then, upon further inspection of the mound, Merlin noticed that the clothes were in fact on a person.

Fragile hands shook as they gently grabbed the stiff body and rolled it to face him. The sorcerer gasped. Lord Harris' servant lay crumpled before Merlin, his neck broken.

* * *

_A/N: _**Woah! Major cliffhanger…**

**What's going to happen? Who killed Lord Harris' servant? Will Merlin be alright? Where's Arthur? What about the knights? WHAT THE _HELL_ IS GOING ON?**

So many questions… Continue reading and you'll find out everything you want to know. I feel absolutely evil. I would hate myself if I was reading this story because I can't handle cliffhangers. They make my skin crawl and I can't stop thinking about what will happen… Hahahahahaha, I feel sorry for you. You have to wait a whole week until you can find out what happens. Sucks to be you. XD

_**Incantations/spells:**_

"**Bedyrne ús! Astyre ús panonweard!**" – _Transport me. Take me to a save haven._

"**Gestepe hole! Purhhæle." **– _Broken rib! Heal._

**Ahlúttre pá séocnes. Purhhæle bræd." **– _Examine internal hemorrhage. Heal bleeding._

"**Purhhæle licsar min." **– _Heal my laceration._

**Yes, I know, not the most creative of spells but you know what… I don't care. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Look for the update next Monday!**

**Please Review!**


	6. Deadly Deductions

_A/N: _**Wow, thanks for all the reviews! I love hearing from you guys. Especially during this time of final papers, exams, projects, and all around work that professors decide to pile on at last minute. Hearing your reviews really cheer me up. Unfortunately, I really should be doing homework instead of continuously writing for this story so I can update weekly… but oh well. As they say, "****Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday". And, to me, it seems like I have far too many yesterdays to try and keep up with. But I always find the time to do all my schoolwork at the same time everyday – the last minute.**** My advice to you is: avoid procrastination! (Don't be a hypocrite like me… live what you preach.)**

"Procrastination is the thief of time; year after year it steals, till all are fled, and to the mercies of a moment leaves the vast concerns of an eternal state. At thirty, man suspects himself a fool; knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; at fifty chides his infamous delay, pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; in all the magnanimity of thought, resolves, and re-resolves, then dies the same." ~Edward Young

**I am sorry for another short chapter but it had to be done. Don't worry the next will be longer, I promise.**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ blah blah blah _Merlin_ blah BBC blah blah not blah blah mine blah… (or something like that)

* * *

**Chapter 6 (Deadly Deductions)**

Merlin would have thought that the poor boy before him had simply frozen to death – blue lips and icicled fingers could prove enough evidence for that. But the awkward angle at which the serving boy's neck was directed made it obvious that hypothermia was not the cause of death. Though the real question was not _what_ had caused his demise but rather_ how_ he had died - was it an accident or something far more malicious?

Glancing around, Merlin discerned that nothing in the room could have contributed to the early termination of the unfortunate lad. In fact, the body was probably the most isolated object in the room, located at least a few meters from any of the room's debris. Thus the only explanation would be that Lord Harris' servant had not died in the ancient, abandoned chapel.

Hence, Merlin concluded that if the boy had had an accident somewhere else in the castle – even if he had been alone at the time of the calamity – his body would have been found, brought to Gaius, and given a proper burial. But this had clearly not been the case. Instead, someone took the time and effort to hide the broken body of the servant who had been killed by mysterious means.

"He was murdered," the shocked sorcerer gasped, talking aloud in the empty room. But then an important arose in his mind. "But by who?"

Then the thought occurred to him, if a stranger or someone in the castle had killed the boy then surely Lord Harris would be looking for his missing servant. However, these were not the circumstances. Lord Harris claimed that his manservant was "ill", not missing. He said so to the king himself. But this was wrong; the boy was dead. Therefore, Lord Harris knew his servant was dead… and lied about it!

Realization dawned on Merlin. "Lord Harris did this. He is a murderer." It had to be true, what other explanation was there?

Merlin knew for a fact that Lord Harris was abusive – he had the bruises to attest it. But was it possible he would go as far as murder?

Kneeling even closer to the body, Merlin tore away the boy's shirt to reveal a partially caved-in chest that was completely covered in black, yellow, green, purple, and blue discolorations. Actually, the torso seemed to resemble a canvassed painting as opposed to a battered body. One arm was enveloped with dried blood – a nasty gash down the length of the bicep seemed to be the source. And, upon even further inspection, it seemed the servant had sustained a broken wrist and leg before his untimely death.

The boy had been brutally beaten and abused.

Tears pricked at the corners of Merlin's vision. For a young boy – of what appeared to be thirteen or fourteen – to be treated so badly and died… no, murdered so horribly before his life had even begun would have driven even the toughest of knights to anguish. Merlin felt completely defeated. Slumping down on the floor next to the body, the sentient servant cried.

He cried for the boy, he cried for the boy's family, he cried for the boy's friends. But, most importantly, he cried for himself. Merlin didn't know what to do. He felt so hopeless, so trapped. He was probably ensnared in the exact same situation that the nameless boy before him was caught in. He was so frightened by the monstrous nobleman and felt total self-preservation that Merlin almost considered keeping quiet about the whole affair and hoped that Lord Harris would depart from Camelot soon.

But Merlin could not do that. By willingly letting the noble leave would allow him to go unchecked to freely abuse others as he pleased. Merlin could not permit that. It went against everything the young magician believed and practiced.

Crying drained the already fatigued warlock even more, leaving him worn and weary. Eventually, as the tears subsided, Merlin fell asleep next to the battered, broken body of the boy. But he did not shut an eye for hope of a peaceful slumber before vowing to retrieve Arthur and telling him of that had happened once he awoke.

"I promise," he whispered. "I promise to bring justice to your killer, even if it's the last thing I do!"

* * *

_A/N:_ **Gahhhh. I know, I know. The chapter is soooo short. This chapter was necessary as a filler to give some explanation of what is going on. Also I thought it would be interesting to show Merlin's train of thought about what he was witnessing and his logical deduction of who was the killer. But never fear, this only means that the next one is extra long. **

**Also, I promise (I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise!) that Arthur appears in the next chapter. Merlin will approach the king, just as he said he would. But the real question you should be asking yourself is… _How will Arthur react?_ Similarly, the knights (all the knights) will at least make one appearance somewhere in the next two chapters. Don't worry, I have not forgotten about them.**

**Keep an eye out for the next weekly update…**

**Please Review!**


	7. Silence, Secrets, and Surprises

_A/N:_** Happy Memorial Day! For those out of country and don't know about Memorial Day it is ****a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. Formerly known as Decoration Day, it originated after the American Civil War to commemorate the Union soldiers who died in the Civil War. By the 20th century Memorial Day had been extended to honor all Americans who have died in all wars. So please remember everyone one (all over the world) that has died serving their country. Pray for the survivors and the family and friends of anyone fighting a war.**

**Anyway, here's the nice, long chapter I promised you last week. Enjoy!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _Merlin_. *sigh*

* * *

**Chapter 7 (Silence, Secrets, and Surprises)**

Almost three hours later Merlin found himself making his way to Arthur's chambers. All of Merlin's thoughts were directed at the promise he made to the dead boy. A boy he knew nothing about – not even a name – but still made a promise to nonetheless. Merlin, in fact, felt slightly guilty that he let his own abuse go on for so long. Certainly he would be dead right now if he did not have magic and used it to partially heal himself. But the raven-haired manservant knew that even if he had brought the abuse to the king's attention he had no evidence to present. Other than the bruises – which would not hold up as evidence in front of a council because a noble could dismiss or defer the blame to someone else of lower status – Merlin had no real _physical_ evidence. Except now he did. He had the boy.

Not even bothering to knock, Merlin burst into the king's chambers. "Arthur, I have to-"

His announcement stopped mid-sentence as Merlin froze. Standing by the door as it softly shut behind him, the secret sorcerer paled. Arthur was not alone in his room. The king was entertaining an older man who turned to face the doorway when it burst open. Lord Harris' black eyes bore into Merlin's with such a sinister glint that the servant's words stuck in his throat.

"Merlin, you really must learn to knock!" King Arthur chided, his eyes smiling. "It is rude to come barging into a room unannounced."

"Indeed," Lord Harris drawled. "It would seem your servant lacks proper manners, Sire." He paused. Then the lord continued, suggesting, "You really should discipline him."

Arthur waved his hand, dismissing the suggestion as if batting an annoying mosquito out of the air. "Nonsense." Merlin's shoulders relaxed from the rigid position they had occupied when the suggestion was made from the cruel nobleman. Although the manservant relaxed he did not move but remained standing still by the entryway.

Arthur turned back to look at a parchment that lay on the table before him and his guest. Then he continued on with the conversation he was having with the lord before Merlin suddenly appeared. Pointing at the document, Arthur stated, "If you remove this provision of the 'no taxation' of the merchants who carry your grain then I would be very pleased and would readily renew this contract."

"Sire, I cannot place such a burden on my merchants to travel almost twelve leagues only to pay high taxes on their cargo to enter Camelot's gates in order to trade. Perhaps, a lower tax rather than no tax at all, or else I cannot guarantee that my merchants will come to Camelot at all but go to a different city in Mercia where the taxation is not so heavy."

Arthur laughed and jokingly held up his hands in surrender. "No need for such petty threats. Of course I can accommodate a lower tax on grain import. After all, I would hate to lose Camelot's number one grain supplier."

"Then we have an arrangement?" Lord Harris questioned, smug that he had struck such a profitable deal.

"Of course."

Lord Harris stuck out his hand for Arthur to shake, which the king readily did. "Thank you, Sire," the nobleman responded, bowing low. "Thank you very much."

The king nodded at the lord. And, bending over the parchment, the young monarch grabbed a quill and scratched his name next to Lord Harris' signature. Then he poured some melted wax onto the parchment next to his name and stamped the wet wax with his royal family seal – a coiled dragon.

Once finished, King Arthur asked, "Will you join me for supper? It seems the snow is beginning to abate and melt. This may be your last night here at the castle as my guest."

"It would be my pleasure, Sire."

"Excellent!" Arthur smiled. "I will see you then." Turning his back on the noble, the king silently indicated that Lord Harris was dismissed.

After bowing once again at the turned back, Lord Harris turned to face the still frozen Merlin. A scowl overcame the once emotionless face. The anger and disapproval at Merlin's earlier "rude" entrance was now clearly showing. Still staring the surreptitious warlock down, the nobleman said, "Come Merlin." A large hand clapped a fragile shoulder and applied pressure all the while directing the poor, frightened servant towards the door. "You will help me prepare for supper."

Merlin began to panic. He did not want to go with the angry lord; he had to tell Arthur about the dead serving boy. He had to keep his promise. And he had to do it soon because if it was true that the weather was warming then he needed to bring the nobleman to justice before he could leave Camelot once and for all. But Merlin's mouth remained closed. As a servant he could not decline a direct order from a noble – it was different with Arthur, the king didn't mind as much – and openly refusing to do so might anger Lord Harris even more, which, in turn, might make the lord more abusive…perhaps, angry enough to kill!

Arthur, however, noted the sudden change in tone when Lord Harris addressed Merlin. It seemed mocking and even angry. Curious, Arthur turned back around to face the lord and the servant. A terrified look on Merlin's visage signaled that something was very wrong. His manservant seemed to cringe away from the older man and he seemed to wince as if the noble's hand on his shoulder was crushing him. Merlin's eyes simply shone with pain and desperation. Distraught at his companion's reaction, Arthur addressed the lord, saying, "Actually, Lord Harris, I require Merlin's assistance with an errand."

"But, Sire," the nobleman protested. "Surely another servant can-"

"No," Arthur stated, his voice adopting a more authoritative edge. "Only Merlin can complete the errand because of his status as my personal manservant." He signaled Merlin to come to him. "I will send him over when I am done. Surely it does not take you so long to prepare for a simple supper?" he finished sarcastically.

"No, Sire," the lord responded, slightly output at the king's suggestion that he was vain.

"You may go."

Frustrated, the nobleman clomped out of the room, forcefully closing the door behind him. Once the door was completely closed Merlin's body relaxed. Then, addressing his master, Merlin asked, "What special errand is there that no other servant can do? Surely you are not going to make me muck out the stables… because I would refuse."

"There is no errand, Merlin," Arthur told the raven-haired servant calmly.

"Then what is it?"

Gazing upon his servant intently, Arthur demanded, "What did you need to tell me that would warrant such an entrance to my chambers? And why could it not be done in front of Lord Harris?"

Nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, the warlock responded, "I-It's actually a-about Lord H-Harris."

Arthur's frown deepened. Merlin never stammered, clearly something was very wrong. "What is it?"

Silence.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked more gently, looking concerned at Merlin's silence.

At Arthur's gentle tone Merlin glanced up from looking at his feet, his hands kneading at themselves nervously. He paused before saying; "It would be b-better if I showed y-you." He paused again, uncertain. "Please d-don't get angry," he said timidly.

"Why would I-"

Arthur's question was cut off when his serving comrade rolled up the sleeves of his coat and shirt. Very little of Merlin's pale skin was not covered in dark bruises. Quickly crossing the room, Arthur found himself staring at Merlin's discolored arms. His gaze followed the blossoming colors up the arm until they disappeared back underneath the shirt and jacket.

"Take off your shirt."

"W-what?"

"Take off your shirt," Arthur demanded again, his voice dangerously low.

Slowly, Merlin shucked off his jacket and peeled off his shirt revealing the off-white bandages that bound his ribs. The bruises that were on his arms continued all the way up and encompassed the shoulders before trailing down the covered torso. Arthur could only imagine what Merlin's chest looked like underneath the wrappings. Guilt overcame the young king when he remembered that a few hours before he had thrown a goblet at the injured boy. He had thought the scream emitted from the young man was one of dramatization and not one of actual pain, but he seemed to be mistaken.

Slightly nauseous Arthur questioned, "Lord Harris did this?"

Not trusting his voice, Merlin nodded.

"Some of these injuries look at least a day old. Why didn't you come to me right away?" Arthur looked right into Merlin's eyes, trying to determine the validity of his response.

"I was scared," Merlin confessed quietly. "And I didn't have any proof yet."

"Your body is evidence enough for me!"

"But Lord Harris is a noble and I am a servant. He could easily cast blame elsewhere without real, physical evidence."

"I am king, I have all the evidence I need," Arthur reprimanded gruffly, emotion oozing into his words. "You should have come to me right away."

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, looking back down at his feet shamefully.

Arthur held up his hand, palm out. "No, do not apologize."

The servant nodded.

"Are there any additional injuries?"

Merlin nodded again.

"Show me."

Becoming slightly hunched, as not to aggravate his ribs more, Merlin took off his boots and socks. His swollen foot ballooned to almost twice the size of his uninjured one. Arthur clenched his fists in rage but said nothing. The livid fair-haired master waited for his servant to finish uncovering his wounds. Then, finally, shaking hands untied and removed the neck scarf. Arthur sucked in his breath when he witnessed the horrible hand-sized bruising that covered Merlin's neck.

"There's more you should know," the manservant told his master quietly.

"More?" Arthur asked, disbelievingly. "What more could he have possible done?" But when Merlin didn't respond right away the king paled, assuming the worst. "He didn't…" Arthur gulped and gesturing to the servant's lower abdomen and hips, he continued, asking, "He didn't…have his way with you, did he?" The king silently prayed that this was not the case. He could not imagine Merlin having his innocence taken from him in such a forceful way.

"No, he didn't."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

Merlin looked up and continued confidently, "I found my evidence. I found Lord Harris' servant."

"You mean his ill servant? What does he have to do with this?" Arthur inquired, confused.

"He's not ill, he's dead. I found his beaten body. His neck was broken."

"Where?"

"In the crypts."

There was a slight pause in conversation before Arthur continued; "Bring me to him."

Merlin nodded and, as fast as his injuries would allow him, redressed. Silently the two companions – master and servant – traveled the halls towards the crypts. Needless to say, Merlin was embarrassed. Admitting he was scared and basically undressing before his king was not something the warlock ever planned on doing. And Arthur took the news of his servant's abuse in the worst way: silently.

Arthur was a man of words; be it insults, praise, commands, lectures, or orders. Arthur always spoke his thoughts and opinions. He always had something to say, especially _about_ or _to_ Merlin. He had questioned the young servant when Arthur deemed he needed to know something and he silently listened to the answers, never interrupting; just simple, unrelenting silence. And it was this reaction Merlin could not handle. He could deal with 'Angry Arthur', 'Embarrassed Arthur', 'Prat Arthur', 'King Arthur', 'Enchanted Arthur', 'Romantic Arthur', and 'Knight Arthur' but he could not handle a silent, emotionless Arthur.

The only other time Merlin had witnessed this side of Arthur was when King Uther had died. The young regent barely spoke, especially after immediately witnessing of his father's tragic demise. The only things he said where things that were completely necessary. If he didn't have to verbally respond he didn't. It scared Merlin. He felt guilty because it was really him who had accidentally killed the king as Dragoon the Great. Eventually Gwen had managed to drag Arthur out of his silent stupor. But Gwen wasn't here, she was still banished. And now, for a second time, Merlin had driven Arthur into silence. What was he to do?

Finally, Merlin and Arthur entered to crypts. The young sorcerer took a torch off the wall and held it up above his head so he could more easily see where he was going. Navigating between the tombs and headstones, the servant led his master to the small oak door. Pushing it open, they stepped inside the ancient chapel. "He's over there," Merlin whispered, pointing to the heap of clothing in the far corner.

Arthur nodded silently. Leaving the distraught manservant at the door, the king took the torch from him and crossed the room to kneel next to the crumpled body. For several minutes Arthur examined the body, looking over all the injuries Lord Harris' serving boy had sustained. Merlin watched Arthur from his distanced location near the door. The raven-haired youngster didn't want to go back over to the body. He had seen enough earlier.

Suddenly a noise echoed throughout the crypts. Spinning around, Merlin strode the little distance to the door and stepped out into the bigger chamber. He expected to see the same guards that had almost spotted him that morning. Merlin wasn't too concerned if it was the guards because now he had valid reason to be in a restricted area, he was with the king after all. But, upon inspection, the crypts seemed to be empty. Merlin turned back around, shaking his head and thinking he had only heard a mouse or rat.

Once the oblivious servant's back was turned a shadowed figure emerged from behind a particularly large sarcophagus. Slowly, and with the stealth of a hunter, the man snuck up behind Merlin and quickly snaked a burly arm around the unsuspecting warlock's torso. At the same time a massive hand clapped over the mouth, effectively silencing the servant. Caught completely by surprise, Merlin had no time to react before he was rendered helpless. The hand muffled his shout of surprise. The stocky figure lifted the frail young man off the ground so he would make no noise by striking the ground with his struggling feet. Having captured the powerless servant, the figure then continued to back out of the chapel, trying to completely whisk Merlin away unnoticed.

Merlin tried to catch Arthur's attention, for the ignorant king was still examining the dead boy's body. But all struggles and screams were strangely ineffective. The warlock grew panicked because he was almost completely out of the chapel, so in one last effort to have Arthur notice that he was being kidnapped Merlin used magic. Staring at a bench decaying on the wall near him, the surreptitious sorcerer allowed magic to seep out of him, directing all his power on moving the wooden bench. And, with a flash of molten gold, the old, weak bench snapped in half, crashing to the floor.

Arthur jumped a few feet in the air when the clamor echoed throughout the deserted room. "Merlin, what the _hell_ are you-" But the young king, turning to face his manservant, noted that on one was in the room with him – for Merlin had finally been wholly bragged from the ancient chapel.

"Merlin?" Turning in a quick circle, Arthur tried to spot his missing companion. "MERLIN!"

The kidnapped magician renewed his struggle when he heard Arthur desperately calling his name. The hands clamped down harder. The arms squeezed his injured ribs causing a burst of pain to roll up and down Merlin's whole body. The young man screamed in pain. Not wanting to get hurt even further, and in a last ditch attempt to alert Arthur that he was being hauled through the crypts by a mysterious figure, Merlin bit down on the hand covering his mouth. A curse was emitted by the figure behind him and the hand released its hold on Merlin's head.

Once the hand fell away from his mouth, Merlin screamed, "ARTHUR! HELP I'M-"

The hand quickly replaced itself over the yelling orifice, cutting off Merlin's screaming. But the damage had already been done. Upon hearing Merlin's call, Arthur rushed out of the chapel and into the crypt. The alarmed king raised the torch high over his head, trying to make out his struggling servant in the crypt's darkness. Spinning in a swift motion, Arthur quickly spotted the figure pulling a besieged Merlin across the immense chamber towards the staircase that lead to the main hallways of the castle above.

"Merlin," Arthur shouted. Then, addressing the mysterious figure, he called out, "Unhand him!"

Running as fast as he could, Arthur easily closed the gap between himself and Merlin. As he drew even closer the hand released Merlin's mouth but only proceeded to withdraw a sword from its sheath. The blade's cold, metal tip pressed itself to the servant's jugular. Then the mysterious figure spoke, "One more step and I will slice his throat."

Merlin gasped, he knew that deep voice! At the soft exclamation the sword's tip compressed even harder on the soft tissue of his neck.

Similarly, Arthur quickly came to a halt – both because of the shock at the speaker's identity and of respect for the threat on Merlin's life. Slightly lowering the torch, so it cast long shadows on his face, Arthur hissed, "_Lord Harris_."

"Sire," the murderous lord said, his response clipped.

"Release my servant."

"I'm sorry, Sire. I can't do that."

"Release Merlin _now_!" Arthur shouted, drawing his own blade. He leveled it at the two men before him.

"Why?" the nobleman gaffed. "So you can arrest me? I think not. I know what you saw in that room. I refuse to have some worthless _wretch_," he shook Merlin threateningly, "ruin me."

"No, you have done that yourself!" Arthur growled back. "Let go of him and I will guarantee a fair, quiet trial."

"No," the nobleman whispered, so quietly that only Merlin could hear the response. The giant man trembled behind his hostage; trembled not from fear but from rage. Lord Harris was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. The lord knew that he could not successfully escape with his hostage; the boy would only slow him down. Perhaps he wouldn't have to bring him along but use him as a distraction. The lord nodded to himself, finally making his decision.

Lord Harris bent forward ever so slightly so he could murmur into Merlin ear. "Say good-bye." Then, without waiting for the servant to even fully comprehend what he said, the lord raised his blade and slit Merlin's throat.

* * *

_A/N:_ **NOOOOOOOOOOOO! AHHHHH, worst place to end…ever! But hey, I'm a sucker for cliffhangers… **

**If you don't like how the story is turning out then just stop reading. I'm not making you read my story; exercise your free will! Anyway, as promised, Arthur is back and desperately trying to help Merlin. Next chapter will showcase more of the knights, especially Gwaine and Leon (but the others also make an appearance).**

**Keep an eye out for next week's update.**

**Reviews are any author's bread and butter. So in order to keep me alive and writing, you must review. Therefore, Please Review!**


	8. Bloody Hands, Dying Man

_A/N:_ **I know, I know. I left off the last chapter at the worst possible place. So I'll keep my author's note short so you can read it right away.**

**(If anyone noticed the Star Wars reference I made in the last chapter you are my new best friend!)**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ BBC is an evil corporation that does not believe in shareholders…

* * *

**Chapter 8 (Bloody Hands, Dying Man)**

Instinctively, Merlin drew away from the cool steel blade as it slid across his throat. Slamming into the monstrous man behind him, the servant jostled the sword, preventing it from cutting _too_ deep. The two men crashed to the ground. The raven-haired youngster rolled off the felled nobleman and, once he was out of harm's way, Arthur pounced. Before Lord Harris could fully compose himself the hilt of the king's own sword slammed into his temple.

Staring down at the disgraced, dazed lord crumpled at his feet, Arthur questioned, "Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin opened his mouth to respond but the words never escaped. A muted gurgle echoed throughout the abandoned crypt. Pale, frail hands grappled with the shredded scarf that was tightly tied around the magician's neck. Tearing it away, wetness met the frantic fingertips: blood. Blood was flowing from the flayed jugular flesh.

Merlin tired to speak again but he choked on his words. Blood clogged his throat, slowly dribbling past his lips when he coughed and attempted to clear his airways. The blood spilled forth and mixed with the blood seeping from his gullet, both staining his hands red. Clutching his neck desperately, Merlin struggled to speak for the third time.

"A-Ar'tur."

Spinning towards the prone form of his serving comrade, Arthur dropped his sword and ran to Merlin's side. The young king placed his hands on top of the warlock's bloodied ones. "_Merlin!_"

Dull, glassy eyes met the tearing, emotional ones of his fair-haired master. "Ar'tur. 'urts."

"Shhhhh, it's alright. You'll be alright," Arthur urged, he himself praying for it to be true. But, just as the adolescent monarch was about to say more, an alarming sound suddenly ricocheted throughout the quiet chamber. Quickly, Arthur glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Lord Harris fleeing into the shadows. Arthur wanted desperately to follow the escaping nobleman but he could not leave Merlin's side, for he feared that the servant would possibly bleed to death if left unattended. He gave his wounded manservant one fleeting look before making an executive decision.

"Guards! GUARDS!" he screamed.

Merlin moved weakly underneath Arthur's hands. "Ar'tur." A coughing fit erupted from the young servant, spraying Arthur with blood that dribbled passed his lips. "'m ssry," the dying warlock sputtered, apologizing.

"No, no, no," Arthur fanatically whispered. "It's fine, see." The king wiped his face with the back of his hand, clearing away the red liquid. "And I should be the one apologizing. I should have noticed you were injured earlier."

Merlin's head bobbled from side to side on its sliced neck. He opened his mouth to respond but Arthur silenced him with a look. "Don't talk," the king said. "Save your strength; help is coming."

As if on queue, the patter of the rushing feet alerted Arthur that the guards were answering his call. To make sure help was headed in the right direction Arthur shouted again, "Guards! Over here!"

A torch rounded the corner that led from the main hallways of the castle. Following closely behind the flickering glow, Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine emerged. The two knights quickly spotted the kneeling king and ran over.

"Sire!" Sir Leon called. He then saw Merlin lying on the ground drowning in a growing pool of blood. "W-what happened?"

Not wanting to explain right then and there what had happened while the culprit ran away, Arthur ignored the question. Instead he ordered, "Sir Leon, go alert all the Guard to find and arrest Lord Harris." The older knight nodded and swiftly ran from the crypts. The young king then turned to the second knight and commanded, "Sir Gwaine, go fetch Gaius." The commoner knight hesitated slightly, his eyes not leaving his dying friend who lay on the floor. "Now Gwaine!"

The alcoholic knight remained still. "Arthur?" Gwaine inquired quietly. "Will he be alright?"

"Not unless you go get Gaius! Quickly!"

The bearded man nodded and then ran from the chamber in the same direction that Leon had darted in. And, once again, Arthur as left alone with the dying adolescent servant. Confident that Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine would complete their tasks quickly, the king turned his full attention back to Merlin. Noting that the wounded youngster's eyes were closed, Arthur anxiously tapped the side of Merlin's face with his reddened palm. "Merlin, stay awake," he encouraged. "Don't fall asleep or-," he paused momentarily. "Or I'll throw you in the stocks and make you muck out the stables for the remainder of the month!"

"N-no f'r," the secret sorcerer mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. "'m in'ured."

"_I_ am king! And _I_ don't care if it's not fair. Now open your eyes."

Little by little, and with great effort, Merlin's eyelids opened and exposed his two clear blue irises. And, gazing steadily at his master above him, Merlin garbled, "Pr't."

Arthur's eyes crinkled in amusement but his tone remained somber. "Only you, Merlin, would find the energy to insult me while you bleed to death."

Merlin didn't response – he didn't have to. The warlock's eyes danced playfully, clearly displaying his silent laughter. Arthur smiled back at those eyes, eyes that undoubtedly portrayed his companion's wholesome spirit and personality.

The two comrades remained silent for a time. Simply enjoying each other's company while they still could. After some time Arthur glanced around anxiously. "Where is Gwaine? He should have returned with Gaius by now."

"It a'ight," Merlin mumbled. "'m t'red."

"Just stay awake a little longer. They'll be here soon, just you wait." But there was no reaction to the king's positive declaration. "Stay awake…" Then Arthur observed the lively spark in Merlin's eyes begin to fade and die. He would have thought it to be the trick of torch light had it not been for the choked whisper.

"'ood b'y, Ar'tur…"

"No! Merlin, you listen here. If you die I will kill you myself!" Arthur blurted out, not noticing how stupid he sounded. "Don't, please. Just stay with me."

The bloody servant exhaled lightly and went limp, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Merlin?" Arthur whimpered. He laid his hand on the side of his manservant's slack face, cupping it lightly. "Merlin!"

There was still no response.

"No, no, no," the heart broken monarch chanted. "Oh, please, no." he pulled his friend into an awkward hug, rocking slightly from side to side. Desperately clinging to Merlin, Arthur cried. Tears flowed freely, falling on the young man's slack face and washing away the blood.

A hand placed itself on the king's shaking shoulders. Slowly looking up, Arthur saw that Gaius arrived. "Sire?" the old man asked quietly. "Will you allow me to examine him?"

"Y-yes, of course." Gradually, Arthur released the boy into his mentor's own arms. Standing up from the cramped kneeling position he had been in, Arthur joined a strangely silent Gwaine who had retrieved the old physician. Trying not to look at Merlin's body, Arthur wiped the salty tears from his eyes and composed himself. After all, he was king and needed to maintain a sense of professionalism at all times.

After a minute or two Gaius looked up. His voice echoed the relief shown on his face. "He lives, Sire. Just barely, but he lives."

A small smile crept onto the king's face.

"I will need to move him to my chambers immediately," Gaius continued. "He is still in a great danger of dying here. He has lost so much blood. I need to work on him without delay."

"Very well," Arthur said, nodding. "Gwaine, can you help Gaius?"

"Yes," came the simple reply. The bearded knight then gently scooped up Merlin and followed the old man from the crypt.

Arthur was about to follow when Sir Leon, Sir Percival, and Sir Elyan appeared.

"Excellent news, Sire!" Leon exclaimed. "We caught Lord Harris trying to leave Camelot by horseback, but the horse he chose was sickly and collapsed in the snow before he could leave the citadel."

"Yes, good news indeed."

"He is being brought to the dungeons as we speak."

"Outstanding job, Sir Leon," Arthur congratulated, clapping the man on the back. He then turned to the other two knights. "Percival, Elyan," he said, addressing them both. "There is a body of a young boy in that chamber over there," he nodded at the small oak door across the crypt. "Can you please collect his body and bring it to Gaius. I will meet you there when I can. I need to visit our guest." The king's face darkened at the mere thought of the abusive nobleman.

"A boy?" Elyan questioned. "Who?"

"He _was_ Lord Harris' servant."

"Is that why you had him arrested…because he did the same to Merlin? He hurt Merlin?" asked a shocked Leon.

"Yes, Leon. He even did so in my presence," Arthur responded heatedly.

Percival sucked in a breath, scandalized by the whole affair.

"Then I am even more glad that we caught him, Sire," the blonde knight asserted.

"Come," Arthur gravely announced, scooping his sword from off the ground. "I have a lord to visit."

* * *

The dungeons were dark and cold. Being located far beneath the castle grounds the dungeons had few windows to allow light to enter individual enclosed cells. Even then, the windows that would usually supply light didn't provide much because the winter sun had already begun to set. The usual dankness had frozen due to the bitter weather, making the walls slick with ice. Puddles of black ice made the trip into the dungeons parlous. Both Arthur and Sir Leon, who had accompanied the king after his departure from the crypts, slipped once or twice trying to make it down the stairs.

Upon hearing forthcoming footsteps the two guards stationed for watch snapped to attention, leaving the card game they were playing scattered about the small table supplied to them. The two men were wrapped up in many layers of clothing and any facial features were hidden, leaving Arthur unable to identify the exact men guarding the noble detainee. So, instead, he addressed them both; "Where is the prisoner?"

The shorter of the two men responded, "In the furthest cell to the left, Sire."

Arthur nodded and, carefully as not to slip and fall in front of his subjects, made his way down the corridor to the only occupied barred chamber. The echo of following feet alerted the king that Sir Leon was trailing behind him like the loyal man he was. Finally, after a few close calls with a particularly large patch of black ice, Arthur found himself standing outside Lord Harris' holding cell. Placing his feet shoulders-with apart, Arthur resembled a man of confidence and poise – neither offensive nor defensive, simply regal in every sense of the word. Then, glaring down at the disgraced noble, the king spoke, "I should have you killed."

From the stooped, seated position against the far wall the shadowed outline of Lord Harris could be seen. His bleak, black eyes evenly stared back at the young monarch. Defiantly, the giant man stood up. Once erect he stalked to the front of the cell and taunted, "Then why am I not dead yet, _Sire_?" The nobleman's breath escaped his lips as thin tendrils of mist, resembling a soul leaving a damned sinner, as he grinned. "Perhaps because you have no real evidence of any crime."

"_Because_," the king sneered in return, "As much as it pains me to see you continue to breath the same air as me, I must uphold the law. You will have a fair trial before the council in two days time." There was a slight pause. Arthur lifted his chin fearlessly, showing his distain for the noble before him, before continuing, "Besides, what evidence do I need when you have slit my own manservant's throat before _me_, your king?"

The inmate remained silent and still.

The king sneered, "That's what I thought." Arthur turned to Sir Leon and beckoned him forward. And he addressed the knight, saying, "See that he is moved to a cell closer to the forefront of the dungeon. I want eyes on him at all times."

Leon bowed. "I am sure some of the knights will volunteer once they have heard what has happened."

"Excellent."

The fair-haired monarch then spun on his heel and strode from the dungeon, only stopping to relay his command of moving Lord Harris to the stationed guards. Once out in the main hallways Sir Leon dismissed himself and went to alert the knights of what had occurred. Stalking through the corridors, Arthur ran into Sir Geoffrey, the knight who maintained the records and texts. He quickly explained to the elder knight what had happened and demanded that he spread the word to all the council members for a convening in two days time for the trial of Lord Harris.

"I will start right away, Sire," Sir Geoffrey responded.

Nodding, Arthur watched as the old man rushed from his presence, anxious to spread the word of the council's gathering. The king then marched towards the physician's quarters to check on his serving friend. He silently prayed that Merlin was all right and had not perished in his absence. Because if his manservant had died there would be no guarantee that Arthur could contain himself and allow a proper trial, damn the law.

* * *

_A/N: _**No _extreme_ cliffhanger here (you're welcome by the way). Though many have stated that I seem to have the art of cliffhanging mastered I still feel as though I should exercise it from time to time – so be alert.**

**Got to love those knights! Definitely more of them to come… Mostly Gwaine and Leon will be showcased (because they're my favorites) but Elyan and Percival will continuously pop up. As of right now I can't decide if I want Percival to even talk in this story – he was always the strong, silent type. Maybe I'll have him have one real awesome line before the end of the story that will blow your socks off… we'll see. ;) **

**Translation for Merlin's slurred words (for those who need help and are dyslexic like me):**

"Ar'tur" **– Arthur **

"'urts" **– hurts**

"'m ssry" **– I'm sorry**

"N-no f'r" **– No fair**

"'m in'ured" **– I'm injured**

"Pr't" **– Prat**

"It a'ight" **– It's alright**

"'m t'red" **– I'm tired**

"'ood b'y, Ar'tur…" **– Good bye, Arthur**

**I'm ecstatic for all the reviews you guys have written to me for this story. You make me a very happy author! So please continue feeding my ego…**

**Please Review!**


	9. Rage and Recovery

_A/N:_ "**Its Monday, Monday, gotta update on Monday. Still recovering from the weekend, weekend. Monday, Monday, gotta update on Monday. Getting excited for next weekend."**

**Yay! Song reference! I know a few of you are defiantly laughing extremely hard for my daring parody. So thank you, who ever you are, for understanding my reference… may you live long and have many children.**

**Anywho… A few people have mentioned that in earlier chapters I focused a little too much on Merlin and what he was doing and not enough on the other characters. And I thought about it and I agree. So while Merlin in temporarily out of commission I am following Arthur around and describing his typical day as king. I also show even more of Arthur and Gwaine's friendship with Merlin. Gwaine will continue to get even more appearances and lines right up to the end of this story.**

**Enjoy!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Merlin_ isn't mine…yet.

* * *

**Chapter 9 (Rage and Recovery)**

Gaius had not been lying when he said that Merlin was barely alive. The old man would have pronounced his ward dead if he was not so well learned in the healing arts. After Gwaine had set the boy on his examination table, the physician immediately began to clear the blood away from Merlin's neck. Though blood continued to seep from the young man's gullet, the relatively clean skin revealed extensive lacerations making the throat appear as ribbons. Gaius marveled how Merlin had not yet died, for surly a wound so huge would have caused even the healthiest man to perish.

Gwaine, upon Gaius' command, set upon the task of boiling water and cleaning bandages and rags. While the bearded knight went about his duties, the old physician quickly sterilized a needle and, after threading it with silk, began to stitch Merlin's neck back together. It was a tough task but, since his ward's life lay in the balance, Gaius worked with the speed and precision of a much younger man. By the time he was done Gwaine had prepared some sterile dressings to wrap around Merlin's neck. It was at that time Arthur entered the chambers, returning from the dungeons.

"How is he?" the concerned king questioned.

"I have stitched his neck," Gaius informed him.

Arthur observed, "He doesn't seem to be losing much more blood."

"Yes, but he has lost so much already."

Arthur stared at Merlin. The young serving boy's face was covered in sweat and he was far paler than usual. "Have you addressed his other wounds?"

"I was not aware he had been injured further," the physician replied, perplexed.

"His arms and foot are bruised," Arthur informed the older man. "And I believe his ribs to be injured also; he had them bound pretty tightly."

Gaius acted promptly upon this new information and – with Gwaine's help – undressed Merlin. Boots, jacket, and shirt were all removed. Gwaine was moved to tears upon witnessing all of his friend's other injuries. The discolorations of Merlin's flesh seemed even more sever against his paler skin. Gaius cut away the servant's bandages littering his torso. It was clear to all present that multiple ribs were cracked, maybe even broken.

Sorrow and rage compelled the commoner knight to kick a stool, breaking it into pieces. "I'm going to kill the bastard that did this," he growled through gritted teeth. He balled his fists and turned toward his king. "Did you catch the bastard? Is he suffering for what HE HAS DONE?"

"We caught him," Arthur responded quietly.

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Why not? He should be DEAD!" the enraged knight roared, breaking another piece of furniture.

Arthur calmly responded with the same excuse he gave the affronted lord; "I must uphold the law and give him a fair trial."

"Bull shit!" Gwaine yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the young king. "This is Merlin we're talking about, the man should be dead for what he did."

"It's not that easy-"

"The _hell_ it is!"

"He's a _noble_!" Arthur yelled back, trying to break through to Gwaine. "I can't just sentence him to death like I could for any peasant. There must be a trial."

Gwaine opened his mouth to counter with a remark of his own but he was cut off. "No, Sir Gwaine," the monarch said formally. "This must be handled properly. End of discussion." But Arthur knew it was far from over – not just by the look of his knight's face but because Gwaine was right, this was Merlin they were talking about; his manservant, his _friend_ for goodness sake.

Arthur sighed heavily and looked down at the newly bandaged servant. It was a pitiful sight to look upon. Merlin looked dead – and if it wasn't for the steady rise and decent of the battered chest Arthur would have though him to be deceased. Tears threatened to fall from the fair-haired king's eyes but Arthur composed himself quickly. It was not proper for him to cry. Not proper at all, not even for Merlin.

* * *

The next morning the news of Lord Harris' arrest spread quickly throughout the castle and lower town via gossiping maids and mouthy servants. There were many rumors of the nobleman's detainment – some far more ridiculous than others. A number of the kitchen staff claimed there was an assassination plot against King Arthur while many chambermaids argued that Lord Harris was a sorcerer. All were far from the truth. The knights, with Gwaine at the heading, quickly squashed all the rumors – especially the one about a possible homosexual affair between the lord and a council member of the court, which was wholly preposterous. But once the truth was spread throughout the ranks, and people learned the reality of the situation, they found it was far worse than any possible imaging.

The castle was in an uproar. There was not one person in Camelot that was not affected by the raven-haired servant. Everyone knew Merlin, or at least knew _of_ him. King Arthur could not fathom the impact his manservant had on the general public; it seemed wherever he went everyone wished the king his or her best wishes for Merlin's speedy recovery. Some of Merlin's serving friends even tried to pay the injured youngster a visit; Emily, the laundry maid, tried to feign an injury to be near the boy and Mary, the cook, purposely hand-delivered extravagant meals for Gaius and Merlin as a 'get-well wish'. But both were swiftly shooed from the physician's chambers by an aggravated Gaius.

Arthur had spent most of the night by Merlin's side, but well around early morning Gaius demanded he go to bed at once. "I will send news if his condition changes or he wakes up," the old man had said, pushing the drowsy king out the door. "I don't want to see you back here until you are well rested." Grumbling, Arthur complied. But the fair-haired royal, shaken by anxiety and concern, could not fall asleep. And it wasn't until the sun broke the horizon that Arthur finally collapsed into bed due to his exhaustion.

Later George came by and woke Arthur around noon with breakfast.

Thrusting open the closed curtains, the temporary servant announced, "It is time to get up, Sire. You have a lot to do today."

Dazed by the sudden brilliance of the sun Arthur blinked rapidly to allow his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. Sitting up in bed slowly, Arthur inquired, "Is there any news of Merlin?"

"None that I have heard, Sire," George responded. "Come have breakfast."

Yawning loudly, the fair-haired king slid out of bed and repositioned the clothes that he had slept in – he had forgotten to change out of yesterday's garments before going to sleep. Arthur sat down at the table and began to eat the plentiful breakfast he had been brought.

Eating silently, the young monarch allowed his thoughts to wander. Mentally he went over all that had occurred the day before. Nothing he recalled was particularly pleasant. Even prior to learning about Merlin's horrible abuse at the hands of Lord Harris Arthur had been having a bad day. Arthur had woken yesterday morning especially early to attend a council meeting that turned out to be canceled without his notification. Though, by that time, Arthur was too awake to dream of going back to sleep. Instead he had gathered some of the knights and, since the snow had begun to recede, took them outside for training. And for the entire time all the knights did was grumble and share silent looks behind his back. Arthur had never heard such complaining in his life – except maybe from out of Merlin. The knights had made training so unpleasant Arthur had ended it early. He had reentered the castle dripping wet and coughing. But before he could clean up he had been approached by Sir Geoffrey who was concerned about a possible scandal that included the siphoning of money from the royal treasury. All this had put Arthur into an even fouler mood. His cough still was slightly bothering him so he sent George to Gaius with the request of a potion. Arthur then had eaten a meager lunch. Thankfully, Merlin had surprised him with a visit, bringing with him Gaius' potion – which had tasted terrible. Merlin's visit and playful banter had slightly cheered the king up. Ritualistically he even had chucked a goblet at his manservant. Later Lord Harris had approached him with the proposal of a new contract for grain imports. It was then that Merlin had reappeared, panicked and scared. And then everything that had happened previously that morning seemed dwarfed compared to Merlin's admission of fear and maltreatment. And the events that followed that evening quickly unfolded a nightmarish reality.

Finishing his meal, Arthur told George to clear up and go about his normal duties. The king was off to visit Merlin.

After pulling on his royal-red jacket Arthur trekked to the physician's chambers. He knocked loudly on the wooden door before allowing himself in. Gaius looked up from his seated position next to Merlin's prone figure. Merlin's cot had been dragged from the poor servant's room and placed in the main chamber near to fire to keep Merlin from getting cold and so Gaius could keep a better eye on him.

Walking up to tower over the old man's hunched form, Arthur gently asked. "How is he doing?"

"Much better, Sire," the physician replied. "He is young and strong, I suspect him to wake up soon." Then he continued, frowning slightly, "I don't know how badly his vocal chords were injured when his throat was cut. Merlin might not be able to talk again."

"He was talking to me right before you arrived with Gwaine."

"Well then, while the damage might not be permanent I would still recommend that he doesn't talk for awhile."

"Merlin won't like that," Arthur said, smiling lightly.

Gaius chuckled. "No, I suppose he won't."

Arthur then turned to look at Merlin. A multitude of blankets were piled on top of the pale youngster, almost hiding him completely from view. The floppy raven hair was splayed messily across Merlin's forehead, concealing the somewhat visible gleam of feverish sweat. Arthur's eyes traveled down and stopped at the off-white bandaged that was wrapped around Merlin's neck, right where his usual nonsensical scarf was supposed to be. "Are any of his cuts infected?" Arthur questioned, referring to the sweat on Merlin's forehead.

"No," the old physician assured the fair-haired young man. Gaius had ensured that no infections would appear or spread when he used to the little magic he still possessed to cast a few healing spell on his ward once they were all alone. "I think he's just a little warm. Here, help me get a few blankets off of him."

Eager to comply Arthur peeled off two layers of blankets covering his manservant. Gaius grabbed a rag and slowly dipped it in a water bucket before proceeding to dab Merlin's forehead. The cool cloth must have slightly shocked Merlin's stupor because he began to stir. Noting the injured youngster's awakening state, Gaius placed a boney hand on the boy's shoulder and tenderly said, "Merlin? Are you awake?"

Still in a half roused state, Merlin furrowed his brow and mumbled something intelligible.

Arthur leaned in closer to try and catch what his servant muttered. "Merlin?" he whispered.

Merlin mumbled again; "Dollop-head."

Arthur quickly drew away from the reclining servant. Turning to Gaius, he declared, "I think he will be alright, especially if he is already insulting me."

"It seems so, Sire."

Merlin's eyes cracked open, staring up at the two men above him. "Arthur? Gaius?" he questioned, confused. "What happened?"

The old man patted the younger one's shoulder. "Shhhhh, Merlin. Try not to talk. You don't want to aggravate your throat."

"But-"

"No talking, Merlin," Arthur snapped.

Merlin nodded feebly.

"Now as to what happened..." Arthur glanced sideways at Gaius, sharing a look that Merlin couldn't quite place. "Do you remember being attacked by Lord Harris?"

Merlin nodded again, trying very hard not to verbally respond.

"Well, while I was trying to help you Lord Harris escaped-"

Merlin gasped. Fearfully he looked around the room, expecting to be attacked by a vengeful lord.

Arthur patted his manservant's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, we caught him. He is in the dungeons now, no doubt being closely guarded by Gwaine."

Merlin visible relaxed into Arthur's grip, relieved that the dangerous nobleman had been apprehended.

"He is set to go on trial tomorrow at high noon for his actions. I feel it would be necessary for you to appear before the council and give a testimony against Lord Harris. But in order for you to speak at the trial you must let your voice rest. Understood?" Arthur asked sternly, making the question more of a command.

Merlin beamed up at his master, silently answering the inquiry.

"Good." Then the young monarch turned to Gaius and said, "Make sure he doesn't talk. I need him for that trial or else I don't know how much we could convict Lord Harris of." Arthur then leaned even closer in and all but whispered into the physician's ear, "Please take care of him, Gaius."

"I will, Sire. I can promise you that," assured the old man.

Smiling, Arthur strode out of the room. Once he was gone Gaius turned back to his injured ward. "How do you feel, Merlin? Any extreme pain?"

Slightly ashamed Merlin avoided eye contact and bobbed his head up and down.

"Where?" But as Merlin open his mouth to answer Gaius quickly stopped him. "Don't talk. Point to where it hurts."

Slowly, Merlin moved his right hand to point at his ribs. Though the secret sorcerer didn't want to admit it out loud his ribs screamed with each shaky breath. Gaius shuffled over to his medicine cabinet and retrieved a pain potion that would numb the body and relieve the ache. The older hands balanced Merlin head in his frail hands and raised it just high enough that his ward could successfully drink the foul concoction.

Growing tired again, Merlin shut his eyes to go back to sleep. Lovingly Gaius combed the messy dark bangs off Merlin's forehead. "Go to bed," he whispered. "I'll wake you for supper."

Merlin hummed in compliance and gradually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gaius woke Merlin hours later. The older physician helped the weak, injured youngster to the table so Merlin could eat his soup more easily than he would be able to on the cot. As the warlock slowly sipped his soup his mentor draped a blanket over his thin shoulders. Satisfied that his ward was comfortable Gaius joined Merlin at the table.

"Do you feel better?" Gaius inquired.

Merlin nodded, careful not to speak, as per the king's orders.

"Good." Then spying to look on Merlin face, the older man laughed. "Don't pout, Merlin, it doesn't become you. You will be able to talk all you want tomorrow at the trial."

Merlin's shoulders tensed. The muted youngster was scared, the thought of having to face the man the almost killed him was frightening.

Noting the tension building in his adolescent ward, Gaius reassuringly said, "Do not worry, Merlin. Arthur will be there. And I expect a few of the knights will be attending also. Gwaine especially; he was particularly effected when he discovered what had befallen you." Rubbing small circles on Merlin's back to sooth him, the older man continued, "The trial will be a noon. You will have plenty of time to sleep and let your voice recover."

Merlin didn't respond to his mentor's calming words. Gaius sighed. He knelt in front of the king's manservant and, tilting the younger man's face aloft, said, "Merlin, look at me." Slowly Merlin's watering eyes shifted upwards until they met Gaius' wise ones. "It is not your fault." Merlin's eyes drifted back downward, ashamed. "No. It is _not_ you fault! Do you hear me?" Gaius jerked the young warlock face up again. "Do you understand?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. Now go back to sleep. You need all the strength you can get."

The injured magician made his way back to the cot and stiffly lower himself onto it. Merlin had no real intention of sleeping, he was too anxious for what the next day might bring. Watching the old physician clear up the remnants of supper and clean the dishes, he tried to calm himself and think about what he would say before the council tomorrow. Everything he said needed to be worded carefully if he hoped for Lord Harris to be brought to justice. And the nobleman needed to be held accountable. Merlin had promised, and it was a promise he intended to keep.

* * *

_A/N:_ **Wow, I can't believe Arthur actually acknowledged his friendship for Merlin…but will he tell Merlin exactly how much he really cares for him? Will Gwaine ever forgive Arthur for letting Lord Harris live? Will Emily and Mary make even more random appearences? Will I ever be able to eat ice cream without getting a 'brain freeze'? Will I stop asking questions that only I know the answers to? Read and all these answers will be answered (or at least, most of them).**

**But I know what your thinking, "How is Merlin recovering so fast? Should he be in bed for at least a week before he even attempts to try to testify at the upcoming trial?" Well, you're right. But that would be a slow and incredibly dull story, now wouldn't it? So I decided to go against all laws of science (and even some of magic) to have Merlin recover incredibly fast so the story may keep moving. Blame me all you want for inaccuracy but I just don't care… its my story alright!**

**Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and favorites! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Look for next Monday's update!**

**Please Review!**


	10. The Trial

_A/N:_ **Another Monday come, soon to be another Monday gone…**

**Someone asked me the meaning of the title: **_Ligna et Lapides. _**Its Latin for "Sticks and Stones"… a play off the phrase "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me". I thought it was cute and witty but that's just me.**

**I had a wonderful review from **The Bibliomaniac** about the last chapter. They said: **thank you, thank you so much for acknowledging that a cut jugular does not mean instant death. It actually takes quite a while to die from a sliced jugular, a lot longer than most people realize (you have to die of blood loss, and there's not a lot of blood kept in the head, so there's not a lot being lost. Now if the carotid had been cut...).

Out of curiosity (and yes, I am probably analyzing this a little too much), I'm assuming the sword was at an angle, that is, not directly under the chin: more towards an ear. That would explain how Merlin's larynx wasn't damaged, or at least not damaged bad enough that he couldn't speak. And it would explain why only one (I'm assuming it was only one?) jugular got hit. Either way, there are a few muscles to get through to the jugular. So far you've been awesome at maintaining continuity of injuries (he acts injured: he limps, he gasps, etc). Will you be including the neck muscle damage in the continuity?

**To answer your questions **The Bibliomaniac**… I picture the sword at an angle (as you assumed) and was pressure more against the soft tissue of the neck, just underneath the jaw. When Merlin pushed away from Lord Harris, just as he drew to slice his throat, the sword cut upward into that soft tissue and curved towards the ear. This allowed the sword to miss any major veins and arteries but still cause enough bleeding from the jugular for Merlin to pass out from blood loss. The vocal chords weren't damaged because the cut would have occurred just above/near the Hyoid Bone, far enough away from the larynx so that it wouldn't be damaged. Now, let me remind you that this is what I picture in my head as an outcome of how Merlin survived his throat being slit. I am in no way a doctor or medical genius… any discontinuities with how I described it and probable reality are to be taken up with a lawyer on the judging that I am a lowly author who had to write her way out of a rut. I hope this answer satisfies you, **The Bibliomaniac**, and thank you so much for the review.**

**Enjoy!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't know why I bother to put a disclaimer in every chapter…its kind of pointless and everyone knows I don't own_ Merlin_. You do know that, right?

* * *

**Chapter 10 (The Trial)**

The next day, just after the passing of the sun at its zenith, the council gathered for the trial and judgment of Lord Harris. There were fifteen council members and five high council members – a total of twenty presiding over the court. Upon an executive decision by King Arthur, it was declared that the trial would be made open to the public – as opposed to a private judging – and was moved to the throne room to accommodate the watchers. The number that showed up was astonishing. Noble and servant a like gathered to hear the trial and judgment of the disgraced Lord Harris.

Once everyone was assembled, ceremoniously the king entered the chamber. All rose in respect. Standing before his subjects, King Arthur announced to the congregation, "Upon my request this council has been gathered today to judge Lord Harris, son of Baltier, in the affairs of the abuse and murder of his own servant and the further abuse against his replacement." The young monarch did not need to mention that Merlin was the replacement; everyone already knew it was him who was nearly killed in the crypts. "Let all the evidence be shown and witnesses stand before this council with honest testimony, as is their civic duty, so as to uphold the law and bring justice to where it is needed." Then King Arthur motioned to a guard standing on the far wall and called out, "Bring in the accused!"

The nameless armored man bowed and pulled open the thick, heavy wooden doors to reveal two more armed guards escorting a sour looking Lord Harris. The nobleman was forced to walk the length of the chamber before coming to stand defiantly before King Arthur and his throne. Stiffly, Lord Harris bowed and grumbled, "Sire."

The king did not verbally respond to the man but simple dipped his head in acknowledgement, trying to contain the evident scowl that graced his features. Regally, King Arthur lowered himself in to his throne. Addressing the council, he stated, "Let us begin."

The high council member charged with directing the trial, Lord Cabot, stood up and made his way toward the front of the hall so that he could be seen and heard by all. Lord Cabot came from one of the oldest, most notable families of Camelot – second only to the Pendragons. He was a portly, middle-aged man whose salt-and-pepper hair and beard gave the illusion that he was wise. But the fact was Lord Cabot was more cunning than anything else. The man loved to twist people's own words against them and he was clever at finding even the smallest of loopholes in an arrangement. Words were his weapons, complete master and manipulator. One could say that he was not the ideal choice to reside over this particular trial because he had little tolerance for the lower classes and, unless the evidence was rock solid, always favored the nobility in every subject, no matter how small. So as Lord Cabot stood and began with the formalities of the court everyone could clearly see that this case would not be in favor of Merlin.

"Lord Harris," the bearded noble addressed. "You have been brought before this council with the charging of two accounts of abuse, an account of murder, and an account of attempted murder collectively upon two of your subordinates. This directly violates the laws of Camelot. What have you to say for yourself?"

"With the respect of the council," Lord Harris began, his words dripping from his mouth like honey, "I deny any involvement with the beating and murder of my own manservant."

"And that of his replacement?"

"I have nothing to say on that matter."

Murmurs erupted from the crowd.

Trying to ignore the whispering masses, Lord Cabot articulated, "Very well."

The trial then proceeded relatively quickly. At first the council addressed the murder of Lord Harris' manservant, whose name was revealed to be Terrence. Quite a few servants testified that they had seen Terrence limping and sporting bruises long before his apparent disappearance. Next King Arthur, and a few of the knights present at the event, recounted that Lord Harris had told him that Terrence was "ill" and requested that a replacement be provided for him until his servant regained full health. From there Gaius was called forward to inform the council that no ailing servant had been brought to him. The old physician then informed the council of all the injuries that the young teen had sustained and his cause of death.

After this report Lord Cabot stood and asked, "Who discovered the body of the boy?"

After remaining silent for the whole trial until then, Merlin took a shaky breath and finally stepped forward, saying, "I did, my lord."

"The victim?" Lord Cabot questioned, shocked. "Interesting. Very well. Where did you find the body?"

"In the crypts, my lord."

"The crypts? Why were you down there? That area is restricted to anyone not of royal heritage."

Merlin froze. He couldn't say that the real reason he was down in the crypts was to perform magic away from prying eyes. But, luckily, before he had to think of a quick lie King Arthur intervened. "We are not here to cast judgment on the victim. If it concerns the council so much that Merlin was trespassing then we should then also concern ourselves about how the boy's body also got into an area that is strictly off limits."

Lord Cabot bowed respectfully. "You are correct, Sire." He turned back to Merlin. "Please continue. Describe what you found."

Merlin straightened and confidently spoke, reciting what he had practiced in his head the night before a thousand times, "At first I believed that Terrence-" Merlin was careful to use the serving boy's name so to have the boy not just be a body but a person "-had wandered where he shouldn't have been, gotten lost, and frozen to death because his lips were blue and appendages were frost bitten. But I noted that his neck was at an awkward angle, undoubtedly broken."

A few of the council members nodded, recalling that Gaius had clearly reported that a broken neck had been the announced cause of death.

Continuing on, Merlin said, "I looked around the immediate area. Terrence's body was in the far corner, completely isolated from anything else in the room. I concluded that only explanation would be that Terrance had not perished in that room but somewhere else because there was nothing near him that could account for the neck injury that he had sustained. So since Terrance couldn't have died in that room then he had to have died somewhere else. But if Lord Harris' servant had had an accident somewhere else in the castle – even if he had been alone at the time of the calamity – his body would have been found, brought to Gaius, and given a proper burial. But this had clearly not been the case."

Everyone now was intently listening to Merlin's recount of events. Some of the council members were questioning themselves how Merlin, a fabled dimwitted servant, could have such objective thinking about the situation. But regardless of their thoughts they continued to listen.

"Someone must have taken the time and effort to hide Terrance. So he couldn't have been killed by accident – either by his own or someone else's mistake… I assumed that if a stranger or someone in the castle had killed the boy then surely Lord Harris would be looking for his missing servant. However, these were not the circumstances. Lord Harris claimed that his manservant was 'ill', not missing. He said so to the king himself. But this was not the case; Terrance was dead. Therefore, Lord Harris knew his servant was dead… and lied about it!"

A few council members gasped, to them Merlin's reasoning seemed to wholly accurate and fully probably. But Lord Cabot was not one of those few. "You _assumed_?" the high council member sneered, finding a loophole to which he could pry open and create a black hole that could consume Merlin and his accusations.

Merlin faltered, unsure of exactly what to say. "Well, yes but-"

"One should not assume," said Lord Cabot superiorly.

More murmurs issued from the gathered congregation.

Merlin could tell he was losing the audience. Some of the council members who seemed to agree with him before began to look at him suspiciously. Desperate to have people back on his side he said stridently, "You cannot deny that Terrance was murdered." He paused dramatically. "The only possible explanation is that Lord Harris killed his own manservant." Whispers grew in volume causing Merlin to speak even louder so he could be heard over the noise. "Lord Harris is abusive! I have to bruises to prove that. What would stop him from murdering someone? He almost killed me… He _meant_ to kill me!"

An explosion of noise drowned out anything else Merlin could have said. The crowd began exclaiming their own musings and disbelief to their neighbors. Lord Cabot tried to regain order but all his efforts were futile. After several minutes of attempting to calm the crowd, King Arthur finally had enough. Standing up, the fair-haired monarch called out, "SILENCE!"

Almost immediately the spectators hushed, obliged to obey their king.

Smoothing his crinkled robes Lord Cabot thanked King Arthur. Grudgingly the nobleman stared down at Merlin and warned the servant, saying, "Proceed carefully."

Gulping, Merlin continued, "I examined the body even closer. Terrance's chest was partially caved-in and was completely covered with colorful bruises. He also had a nasty gash on his arm and a broken wrist and leg-"

"Yes, yes," Lord Cabot interrupted impatiently. "We already know this."

"Oh, umm."

"Do you have anything else to add that the council doesn't already know?"

"I don't believe so, my lord," Merlin admitted.

"Very well. I don't believe we have any more questions right now."

The raven-haired manservant stiffly bowed and turned back to return to his original position next to Gaius. Once Merlin was gone Lord Cabot addressed the crowd, inquiring, "Who removed the boy's body from the crypt?"

"We did, my lord," Sir Elyan announced, stepping forward with Sir Percival.

"Did your observations about the room and environment concur with those of the victim?"

Speaking again, Elyan said, "Yes, my lord. The room was not disturbed and there was no evidence that a fight had taken place. I can soundly say that Lord Harris' servant did not die in that crypt but was hidden there."

"Thank you, Sir Elyan."

While Percival and Elyan bowed and slid back into the ranks of knights Lord Cabot turned toward his fellow council members and shared a few whispered shifted anxiously from foot to foot. The trial had been going smoothly until he had been called up as a witness; it now seemed that it would be more likely that Lord Harris could get off with a lenient punishment _or_ simply a slap on the wrist and a word of warning. Merlin shook his head; he couldn't afford to think like that. The trial wasn't even half over. The council had yet to begin the investigation of Merlin's injuries and attempted murder.

As if reading the young servant's mind, Lord Cabot finished talking to his peers and turned back to address the king and the crowd. "The council requests to postpone the rest of the trial until tomorrow so that the evidence may be discussed and possible judgments drawn. The second half of the trail – concerning the treatment of the replacement servant – will be investigated tomorrow at high noon."

Ceremoniously, King Arthur rose from his seated position on the regal throne and dismissed the proceedings. The masses stood in respect and watched the king silently stalk out of the chamber. Once their beloved monarch had disappeared the thunderous conversation began. Lord Harris was quickly ushered back to the dungeons and the council escaped for fear of the outraged congregation's reactions. Gaius gently took Merlin by the arm and led him through the crowds. Gwaine trailed closely behind, warding off anyone who might try to talk to or detain Merlin. The threesome, after some pushing and shoving on Gwaine's part, soon found themselves alone in the corridor far from the throne room.

Once they were in the deserted hallway Gwaine turned to his friend and gently embraced him. Drawing away from his strangely quiet friend, the knight asked, "Merlin, are you alright?"

The raven-haired manservant took a shaky breath before honestly answering, "I don't think so Gwaine, not this time.

"Mate, don't talk like that! There is no way the _he_ will get away with what he has done. Once the council hears your story they will have no choice but to convict him." Merlin noticed that his bearded friend refused to say Lord Harris name aloud – be it for Merlin's sake or his own. But Gwaine continued on, saying, "I believe we can do it!"

"You really think so?" Merlin asked timidly.

"I know so," Gwaine responded, puffing his chest out in confidence.

Merlin smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. Gwaine's infectious demeanor lifted the young servant's morale.

The, placing both hands on Merlin's fragile shoulders, the commoner knight intently gazed at his serving friend. "Mate, you were my first, and for a time only, friend," Gwaine said seriously. "You have helped me so much; you have given me a peaceful home, a loving family, and more loyal friends a man could hope for." Gwaine paused slightly, struggling to find the right words to say. Slowly Gwaine's hands dropped away from Merlin's shoulders before he continued, "I promise that I will return the favor of friendship you have given me. I will be the best friend you were to me, no matter what!"

"Thank you, Gwaine."

Dropping the serious tone, the bearded knight responded loftily, "Think nothing of it!"

The two began to walk again, trying to catch up to Gaius who had continued strolling when the two friends had stopped to talk. Upon approaching to old physician, Gwaine cheered, "Now let's celebrate! I hear the tavern is open now because of the receding snow."

No matter how much fun it was to go drinking with Gwaine, Merlin just didn't feel up for it. The raven-haired warlock's throat was starting to bother him and he was feeling quite drained. Luckily Gaius came to Merlin rescue and said, "I don't think Merlin should be drinking in his condition. However, if we win this trial then we will defiantly have something to celebrate. Then, possibly, I will allow Merlin to accompany you to the tavern for a short while."

"Gaius is right," Merlin added. "And I think I should probably get some decent sleep before the second part of the trial tomorrow."

"If you insist."

"I do."

"Then I will see you tomorrow," Gwaine replied, turning to take an adjacent corridor to the tavern. The knight waved and strode away from the twosome. "Good night."

Merlin and Gaius turned away from the departing Gwaine and headed in their own direction towards the physician's chambers. Upon entering their respective rooms, Merlin settled himself down for a quite nap before supper. Just before he fell asleep the young servant smiled to himself, thinking of Gwaine and his confession of friendship.

* * *

_A/N:_ **So ends the first of a two-part trial. I found it necessary to add a new original character to preside over the trial: Lord Cabot. Lord Cabot represents a more historical, and stereotypical, nobleman of the age. He is favorable to the nobility and thinks himself superior to all, even possibly the king. Lord Cabot will hopefully continued to resurface during the rest of the story, giving everyone from Merlin to Gwaine a hard time. Any comments or suggests about Lord Cabot's character are greatly accepted; criticism and improvement is critical for any author.**

**I am still trying to showcase the knights more and more but I am finding it very hard. There are just so many of them and so many things to write without adding little scenes with them in it but I will continue to try. But I can't help but be astounded by Percival's sharp, witty banter; he get s me every time. ;)**

**Part two of the trial is set to come out next Monday. Be wary!**

**Please Review!**


	11. Out Of Favor

_A/N:_** Hello all! Now I know a few of you sent me a message when I didn't post the next chapter last Monday… well to be completely honest I totally forgot it was Monday. I'm on vaction and the last thing from anybody's mind is what day of the week it is. So when I got a few messages in my Inbox asking me why I hadn't posted I was shocked that I could even forget that a Monday had come and gone. Now instead of posting the chapter randomly in the middle of the week I am going to try and post two chapters today, effectively getting myself back on schedule. One chapter now and one later tonight. I hope everyone is satisfied with this solution.**

**Now for this chapter I needed to have a little fluff between Arthur and Merlin… Therefore, the second part of the trial is going to be in the next chapter, not this one. **

**Again, sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Any disclaimer issued by me is subject to change without notice.

* * *

**Chapter 11 (Out Of Favor)**

A light rapping on his door alerted Merlin that it was time for supper. After slowly picking himself up off his small cot, the warlock combed his hair with his long fingers and painstakingly trekked across the room to the door. Pulling it open laboriously, he found Arthur on the other side. Gaius was nowhere in sight.

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned, his voice hoarse. "Where's Gaius?"

"Someone in the lower town sent for him. He passed me in the hallway and asked if I could wake you and make sure you eat some supper."

"Oh." Merlin nudged himself around the royal and lightly snapped the door shut behind him. Glancing around the deserted chamber Merlin spotted a pot hanging over the fire. The young servant shuffled over to the hanging vessel and peered inside. Just as he assumed, it contained a small bit of stew, not the heartiest of meals but it certainly would do. This winter had been particularly harsh on the old physician and his ward. Yes, a regular stream of patients kept Gaius busy but the townspeople just didn't have the means to pay him. Being the kind man that he was, Gaius told his poor patients that he would accept payment when they could afford it; he didn't pressure anyone into paying him his dues. Because of this, the two had been living off of the meager wages that Merlin made as a manservant. But it just wasn't enough for two people to survive, especially in winter. Occasionally Gaius would treat a noble and would be paid but sick nobles were few and short coming. It had been a hard winter.

Sighing, Merlin grabbed a clean bowl from a cupboard and began to gingerly lower himself down next to the pot. Arthur stopped him from bending over, saying, "Here, let me." The fair-haired royal took the spoon and bowl out of Merlin's hands. "You shouldn't bend over and possibly aggravate your injuries."

"Thanks?…"

Arthur shrugged. Then, with the long wooden spoon, he scooped Merlin's supper into his bowl, carefully scraping the bottom of the pot to ensure that he had gotten all the stew.

Merlin, who finally seated himself at a table, grinned stupidly at the king when the bowl of steaming stew was placed in front of him. "I could get used to this," Merlin commented, playfully.

Arthur just shook his head. "Don't get to used to it. Once all this business is over everything will go back to normal and it will be _you_ waiting on _me_." Merlin just kept grinning and slowly began to eat. Arthur placed himself on a similar stool across from his servant and silently watched Merlin eat. The king said nothing as he scrutinized the young man before him. Unable to determine what Merlin was thinking or feeling Arthur finally asked, "Are you alright?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Merlin complained, exasperated.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, I guess," Merlin responded, finally answering Arthur's question.

The fair-haired monarch nodded.

"So why are you here?" the manservant curiously asked.

Arthur uncomfortably shifted in his seat. "Ummmm. I…uh…"

"That's what I thought," Merlin smirked. "The prat just can't live without me. You actually care about-"

"Don't be absurd," Arthur scoffed. "I simply don't have the time to train a new servant."

Merlin's smile grew at the king's lame excuse. "Uh huh."

"It's true!" Arthur asserted, throwing his hands up into the air with disbelief.

"What about George?" the secret sorcerer teasingly inquired.

Arthur groaned. "He's so boring, dull, dreary, monotonous, tedious, mind-numbing… _I could go on_!"

"Oh, I believe you."

The two companions paused their conversation. Merlin went back to eating his supper, which unfortunately had grown cold, and Arthur went back to watching his manservant eat. Silence reigned over the room. After a few more mouthfuls of stew Merlin looked up at the young king. Perplexed as to why Arthur had not left yet Merlin concluded that the king was actually concerned about him. Grinning, Merlin goaded in a sing-song voice, "You _sooooooo_ missed me."

At this playful comment Arthur practically exploded, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. "Of course I did!"

"Wait. What?" the warlock asked, shocked and bewildered by his master's fiery response.

"You don't understand, Merlin. You where _dying…_ I though you were dead! And the worst part is that you didn't trust me. You _don't_ trust me."

"I trust y-"

"No! You don't trust me, Merlin. You didn't come to me about Lord Harris. You came to me as a last resort. A last resort! You waited; you waited too long. Because of that you almost died in my arms," The frantic, emotional king exclaimed. Looking down at his hands, Arthur could visualize the blood that covered them only two days before. Holding back tears, he went on in a small voice, saying, "I thought I lost you."

The thud of a wooden spoon hitting the floor was the sound that broke the silence that ruled over the room. Open mouthed and bugged eyed, Merlin was overtaken with a multitude of emotions: shock, sadness, compassion, misery, sympathy, concern, and, most prominently, guilt. Merlin tried to catch Arthur's lowered eyes. The manservant tried to discern his master's own feelings, but Arthur's face was not visible from its bowed position. Struggling to respond appropriately, Merlin said, "Arthur, I-"

But the king interrupted him, his faint reply overpowering Merlin's own admission. "Just never do that again." Arthur looked up; his eyes shining with unshed tears. "_Promise me_."

"I promise."

Arthur nodded. Then, suddenly, he stood up from his seat position. And, with the swish of moving clothing, the young king strode across the room. He swung the chamber door open and, just as he was about to exit, he turned to face his still seated friend. "Good night, Merlin."

Merlin was shocked and confused about his master's sudden departure. He rushed to his feet, ignoring the tensing of sore muscles and the irritation of injury against cloth. "Arthur? ARTH-" Merlin's throat seized. His raised voice strained the throat and vocal muscles. A tickle rose in his throat. Merlin coughed, trying to ride the itch from his esophagus. But coughing only brought about more irritation, which, in turn, caused him to cough more. Spittle and blood expelled itself from Merlin's mouth. The bandages that were wound around the adolescent's neck began to redden. Merlin panicked. Déjà vu overtook the juvenile servant; the taste of copper in his mouth, the helplessness of choking on his own blood.

Merlin's body couldn't take any more stress. He collapsed.

Injured rubs hit the ground, unprotected. A strangled shout emitted from between the raven-haired warlock's blood stained teeth. Another bout of coughing left Merlin drained. Just as he was about to pass out, the secret sorcerer heard the sound of rushing feet. Merlin heard someone scream – not realizing it was him that had yelled in pain. A muffled shout responded. Another voice began to franticly whisper words into his ear.

"Ar'tur?"

More stifled noises. More hushed words.

But all feel on the deaf ears of an unconscious Merlin.

* * *

"Arthur! ARTHUR!"

The king turned to see a frenzied Sir Gwaine come running around the corner that Arthur himself had just turned. Spotting Arthur at the end of the corridor, the commoner knight rushed to the young monarch's side.

"Gwaine, wha-"

"You must come quickly!" Gwaine exclaimed between gasping breaths. "Its Merlin."

"What about Merlin?" Arthur inquired, concerned. Only something truly horrible could have rattled Gwaine so.

"He's collapsed! Gaius is with him now."

Needing no further explanation, Arthur ran down the hallway back towards the physician's chambers from which he had just departed. Arthur could hear Gwaine following right behind him, keeping pace with his king. Eventually the two reached the determined destination. Bursting into the room Arthur called out, "What's happened? Where is he?"

Gaius looked up from his kneeled position next to a prone figure. "Sire."

"What's happened?" Arthur repeated. Crossing the room in three great strides, the king came to be next to Gaius. Looking down at his felled friend Arthur witnessed a slow trickle of blood coming out of Merlin's agape mouth. The young man's breaths came out as strained wheezes.

"He seems to have stressed his vocal chords and throat," Gaius said. "I know not if it was something as simple as talking or as dramatic as yelling. The laceration on Merlin's neck have reopened and caused both external and internal bleeding. Shock and lack of oxygen must be the real reason for his collapse. When he fell he cracked two more ribs on his right side. Luckily Gwaine and I returned from the lower town or else Merlin could have drowned in his own blood. I was able to clear his airway and his breathing is better but I need to reexamine and bandage his neck."

"Will he be alright?"

"He should be…but-"

"But?" Gwaine interrupted, startled.

"_But_ I do not know how well he will be to speak at tomorrow's trial, if he can even speak after this ordeal."

Arthur's hands anxiously brushed through his hair before traveling down and rubbing his face. "What can I do to help?"

"Please, help me move him into his room."

The king nodded. Arthur bent down and, placing one arm underneath Merlin's shoulders and the other beneath the crook of his knees, scooped up to the gangly serving boy into his arms. It shocked Arthur just how little Merlin weighted. The young monarch assumed that his servant had some sort of muscle on him but it appeared he had been wrong. Merlin was quite literally a sack of bones. Trying to ignore the obvious malnutrition that Merlin has suffered, Arthur followed Gaius into the attach ed chamber – Merlin's room. It was as messy as Arthur thought it would be. It appeared that every single garment that Merlin possessed – not the he had many – was thrown on the floor. The cot in the far corner was unmade and only sported two thin blankets. No pillow was in sight.

Now, Arthur had been in Merlin's chambers before; once or twice to wake him up because he was late and a few more times when he was prince to search the chambers for sorcery, as per his father's orders. But in all the times he had entered, and searched, Merlin's room he had never noticed its meager qualities: a single cot, a small dresser, a rickety stool, and clothing. There was nothing personal, nothing luxurious, nothing in excess.

The room was cold. A bitter draft fled in to the room from a crack in the shutter covering the small window above Merlin's cot. Arthur frowned. He did not like that his manservant was living in such horrible conditions. Arthur made the resolution that once the whole trial was over he would find a better chamber for Merlin to live; a room that would be warmer, funerished, and closer to Arthur's own chambers as opposed to ones on the other side of the courtyard.

After finally setting the unconscious Merlin on his bed, Arthur turned to face the other two men in the room. Then, addressing both Gaius and Gwaine, Arthur asked, "How is Merlin to testify at the trial if he cannot speak?"

"That is a good question, Sire," Gaius repsonded as he knelt next to his ward, removing his bandages to assess the damage and treat the lacerations.

Instead, Gwaine came up with a possible solution for the predicament. "Can Merlin write? Perhaps he could write his testimony and have someone be his orator and read Merlin's statements on his behalf."

Arthur nodded. "That could work." He turned to Gaius and asked, "Is Merlin literate?"

"Yes, Sire. His mother taught him to write at a young age."

"Excellent! Do you have any parchent and quills that he could use when he wakes up?"

"None that I can spare, Sire."

Arthur waved his hand. "That's fine. I have pently of spare in my room. Gwaine, stay and help Gaius. I will go fetch the supplies from my room."

And without waiting for a response the young king scampered from the room. The halls were mostly deserted, Arthur only passed three patroling guards while walking to his chambers. It took several minutes to locate the spare parchment and quills Arthur's recently cleaned desk. Arthur liked to live in organized choas, Merlin understood this. Piles that looked like clutter where actually neatly ordered stacks of speechs and treaties. Heaps of clothing on the floor did not automatically mean that they were dirty, despending on where they were located determined their cleaniness. But no matter how many times Arthur told Geogre this, the brown-noser just could not seem to grasp the concept. As a result George simply cleaned and orangized eveything his own standards, not the king's. This frustarted Arthur to no end – just another reason in the long and growing list of reasons about how Arthur detested the gangly servant. And thus, the young monarch was forced to search his desk for several minutes trying to find his spare supplies. He could just never find anything after George cleaned.

Arthur eventually emerged from his room with the desired objects in his posession. The king carefully walked back towards the physcian's chambers as not to drop anything or spilled any ink from the fountion he also grabbed. But a few corridors away from his destination Arthur was sidelined by a concerned looking Sir Leon.

"Sire," the fair-haired knight called out.

Arthur turned to see Sir Leon approach him from an adjecent hallway. "Yes, Sir Leon? Is something the matter?"

The knight nodded. "It seems word of Lord Harris' arrest has reached his lands and manor. A courier just arrived bearing a letter sealed by Lord Harris' crest. It appears the Lady Gwendolynn is upset with her husband's detainment."

Arthur bit his lip, he had completely forgotten about Lord Harris' wife. Sighing, Arthur said, "Walk with me, Sir Leon. Do you have the letter with you?"

"Of course, Sire." And, with the restle of clothing and jingle of chainmail, the bearded knight withdrew a bulky wad of parchment from a pouch attached to his belt. Sir Leon noticed Arthur wearily eyeing the extensive, multipaged letter and meekly smiled. "She seems to have gotten a little carried away with her wording."

The king raised an eyebrow. "A little?"

Sir Leon grinned and joked, "You would think her a 12-year-old girl writing a love letter to her courter."

Arthur chuckled. "It would seem so."

The twosome then turned another corner and found themselves just outside Gaius' chambers. Sir Leon opened the door for his king before following behind Arthur into the room. Both encountered Gwaine in the main room anxiously hovering around the door to Merlin's room. The commoner knight looked up when the two men entered the room and paced over to them.

"Has something happened?" Arthur inquired, concerned.

"Nothing too serious…I think," Gwaine responded, uncertain. "Gaius examined Merlin's neck and muttered something before shooing me out of the room. He won't let me back in. I don't even know what's happening!"

Dumping the supplies from his desk on a nearby table, Arthur marched up to the door and knocked. After three rapid, hard knocks he called out, "Gaius, its Arthur. What's going on? Please open up!"

Seconds ticked by before the door cracked open to reveal an exhausted looking Gaius. Slipping out of the room and snapping the door shut, the older man folded his hands in front of himself and said, "Merlin has woken up and I have explained to him what has happened. He has agreed to write out his testimony for tomorrow's trial. I have repaired all damage that he sustained but I don't think he should attend tmorrow's trial. Any unneeded stress could cause further damage."

"But Merlin is the key witness!" Gwaine exclaimed.

Leon questioned, "How could this effect the outcome of the trial?"

"The trial could fall apart without Merlin," Arthur attested. "He needs to atleast make an appearance."

"No," Gaius stated clamly, folding his hands in front of his person. "I forbid it."

There seemed to be no arguing with the old physician. So after several minutes the three knights left Gaius to his own devices. Gwaine went his separate way after bidding his king and fellow knight farewell and good night. Meanwhile, Arthur and Sir Leon proceeded to Arthur's chambers to read the letter sent by the Lady Gwendolynn. And, placing himself in the chair at his desk, Arthur demanded, "Open the letter, Sir Leon. We shall read what Lady Gwendolynn wished we read so eagerly and urgently."

"Yes, Sir." Leon drew out the letter and broke the seal. Unfolding the bundle of parchments carefully he began to read: "Your Excelency, it troubles me most that I must hear from anyone other than yourself of my husbands arrest. I am shocked that such a simple visit to Camelot could produce such alligations and grievences against Lord Harris. My heart breaks to think of my husband being locked away like a common criminal. I trust he is getting the proper treatment that someone of his status deserves. Is it wholly possible that my husband could have commited the crimes of which he is charged? I myself will set out to Camelot hours after I have sent this letter with one of my most trusted, speediest messengers. I pray that you will prepare for my visit and alert my husband of my empending stay. However, even with the arrest and detainment of Lord Harris, I wish to know if the agreements and treaty that my husband originally embarked to Camelot for will hold true. And I expect, dispite all that has happened, all arrangements of the treaty will holdfast for the benefit of the citizens of Camelot and my husband's manor and lands…" Sir Leon's voice drifted off as he scanned the rest of the parchement before looking at the next few that followed. The fair-haired knight then informed his king, "The rest of the letter appears to be about the treaty. Sire, I do not see the arrest of Lord Harris mentioned again."

"Very odd," Arthur commented from his seated position. "You would think she would be more hysterical, especially with a letter so long."

Still silently reading over the letter, Sir Leon stated, "Sire, it seems she is actually more concerned about the treaty than her husband. In fact, she seems _curious_ to if the charges against Lord Harris will condemn him. But she hides her curiosity well; she writes as though she must appear loyal to her husband on paper."

Arthur sat up straighter at the idea and stroked his chin in a thoughful manner. "Perhaps she knows of Lord Harris' abusive nature. Think about it! This couldn't possiblly be the first time he has abused a servent…maybe even his own wife."

"It seems entirely possible, Sire."

"I am still interested to see what the rest of the letter says. Leave it here with me and I will finish reading it. Thank you for directly bringing this to my attention, Sire Leon. You are dismissed." Arthur waved his hand at the knight in a shooing fashion. Sir Leon bowed just after he placed to bulky letter on Arthur's desk. But as he was about to leave the room, Arthur called out to him again, "Sir Leon!"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Please don't speak of the letter to anyone, even if you are asked about it."

"As you wish, Sire."

"Thank you. You may go."

As the door snapped shut behind the departing knight Arthur fully relaxed in his chair, allowing his body to spill gracelessly over the sides. Sighing heavily, Arthur pulled the letter toward him and began to read where Sir Leon had left off. The more and more the distraught king read, the more and more he began to worry about the continued trial tomorrow. The trial seemed to no longer be in Merlin's favor - especially having a written testamony as opposed to a verbal one. Even everything said today had been twisted and undermined by Lord Cabot. The offense was beginning to crumble and it seemed less and less likely that Lord Harris would be justly punished for his abusive actions against Terrance and Merlin.

The trial was definatly no longer in Merlin's favor…and Arthur was fearfull for what that could mean.

* * *

_A/N:_ **Another chapter done with another yet to come… I hope you all enjoyed this little filler chapter and the introduction of another orgininal chaparcter, the Lady Gwendolynn. (I really need to stop adding characters and sub-plots or else this story is going to last forever.) If all goes as planned, I expect that Lady Gwendolynn will appear in person later in the story. Do you think this is a good idea? Or should I have her just be a mentioned name in the sidelines?**

**Anyway, look for the next chapter (The Trial part 2) later tonight…**

**Please Review!**


	12. The Judgment

_A/N:_ **Hahahaha! 11:57! I made it. I posted, as per my promise, the next chapter this Monday night. Now for those in different time zones… sorry but it is still Monday where I am… so HA!**

**So, without any further needless nonsense, here is The Trial (Part two) just as I had promised.**

**Enjoy!**

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer**__: _All generic disclaimers apply.

* * *

**Chapter 12 (The Judgment)**

The next day, some time before noon, the throne room began to refill with excited and blusterious crowds of people ready to view the second day of Lord Harris' trial. King Arthur paced about an adjacent room waiting to enter and begin the trial. Late last night Merlin had written out his testimony and requested, according to Gaius, that Sir Gwaine be his orator. And, after some convincing, Arthur agreed. However, because of Gwaine's emotional investment in the trial Arthur laid out the condition that Gwaine read Merlin's testimony before the trial began, as to allow the commoner knight to prepare himself for any and all passionate responses he might have from reading Merlin's statements. Gwaine had agreed, so early this morning he had collected all the papers and read them. And, according some servants, angry shouts and sounds of breaking furniature could be heard from Gwaine's room.

Just then King Arthur heard the citadel bells chime, signaling that it was high noon. Sighing, the king straigtened his robes and fixed the crown on his head. He rolled the tension out of his shoulders before sighing again. And then, with head held high, King Arthur exited the small waiting chamber and entered the packed throne room. The crowd immediately hushed and those who where seated rose to their feet. Striding to his place at the front of the chamber, King Arthur's eyes scanned the mass of people looking for Sir Gwaine. He easily spotted him near the very front. As the two made eye contact Gwaine nodded, signaling that he was ready to read Merlin's testimony.

Then, once King Arthur had seated himself, Lord Cabot moved to address the king and citizens of Camelot; "We are gathered today to continue the judgement and ruling of Lord Harris on the accusations of murder and abuse." Lord Cabot raised his hand and indicated to an guard to escort Lord Harris into the room. After the accused nobleman was quickly ushered into the chamber Lord Cabot began to speak again. "The council wishes to hear the replacement servent's statement as to what occurred the night the accused allegedly abused him."

At this que, Sir Gwaine strode to the front of the chamber, parchments in hand. Then, speaking loudly for all to hear, the commoner knight stated, "The victim of the crime in question is unable to attend this portion of the trial due to his injuries and extenuating circumstances. I, Sir Gwaine, have been selected as his orator to read Merlin's testimony as he recalled it."

Lord Cabot frowned upon hearing that Merlin couldn't appear at the trial. "Is this true?" the council member asked, addressing Gaius.

Gaius nodded and responded, "It is, my lord."

"Very well," Lord Cabot said, waving his hand. "You may continue."

Gwaine cleared his throat and straightened the papers he held in his grasp. Then, after taking a deep breath, he began to read. " 'Written here after is the account of what I, Merlin, son of none, endured at the hands of Lord Harris during my brief servitude underneath him. The week past I was informed by King Arthur that I would be serving under Lord Harris until his ill servant regained full health. I did so, as was ordered by the king. However, after Lord Harris requested I retrieve some wood. I reentered the chambers and was assulted by the nobleman. He grabbed my arm, bruising it. And because I was caught by surprise and brutally yanked I dropped a log from the load I was carrying. The log then proceeded to smash into my left foot, severly injuring it. Shortly after, when I did not give the deemed acceptable answer to a question, Lord Harris struck me,' " Gwaine paused slightly. Turning to the next page of the testimony he continued, " 'I was soon after dismissed. The following day I delivered Lord Harris' breakfast. Again I was attacked, this time I was first kicked multiple times while incapacitated on the ground. After which, Lord Harris proceeded to strangle me until I was rendered unconscious.' "

Whispers erupted from the crowds behind Sir Gwaine. King Arthur raised his hand, effectively silencing the masses. "Please continue, Sir Gawine."

The bearded knight nodded and turned to another piece of parchment. " 'After I awoke I was verablly threatened by Lord Harris to tell no none of what had occurred. I then proceeded to self-treat my injuries. Some time later, I found myself in the crypts. It was then that I discovered Lord Harris' servant, Terrence. The boy had been long dead by the time I found him. At that point I approached King Arthur and told him of what had happened to me and presented to him the body of Terrene for examination at his own eye.' " The sound of papers shuffling replaced the sound of Sir Gwine's deep voice before he could continue. " 'While in the crypts with King Arthur, I was once again attacked by the visiting nobleman. And, after being dragged and held at sword point, my throat was slit. Fortunately I survived and thus the commencment of this trial, to which I have given my testimony to, will deem the judgement upon my abuser as seem fit by the law.' It is then signed by Merlin," the knight finished.

"Thank you, Sir Gwaine," Lord Cabot announced. And, as Gwaine reentered the crowd behind him, the head council member continued, saying, "Unfortunly the council cannot cross examine the replacement servant but the testimony of the King himself will aid in this quest for truth and justice. Sire, if you will…"

King Arthur shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. Clearing his thoat, the youthful monarch said, "Certainly. Just as Merlin's written statement said, my manservant brought his abuse under Lord Harris to my attention. It is true that while examining the deceased servant's body in the crypts Merlin was attacked by Lord Harris. I demanded his release but the lord was unrelenting. In an attempt to escape, Lord Harris slit Merlin's throat and ran from the crypts. I called for help; Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine repsonded. One I sent to fetch the guards to capture the fleeing Lord Harris, the other I sent to retrieve Gaius. Eventually, we caught Lord Harris before he could escape Camelot and Gaius was able to save Merlin."

"Why did Merlin wait so long to approach you about his alleged abuse, Sire?" Lord Cabot questioned.

King Arthur ground his teeth together, angry and uncomfortable with the inqury. "He claimed that he did not have enough evidence to bring the lord to trial. But when he found the Terrence's body he felt he had enough proof for the council…proof that he was not the only one who had suffered under Lord Harris."

"Do you personally believe Merlin's accusations against Lord Harris?"

"Yes," came the strong reply.

Lord Cabot nodded. The head council member then turned to his peers and exchanged a few hushed words. Then turning to Lord Harris, he asked, "My Lord, what is your recounting of the events presented today?"

"I would like to account all alleged 'attacks' made on the serving boy to be under the title of disciplineation," the now standing nobleman stated.

"Explain."

"The first supposed 'attack' was made when the boy entered my chambers uninvited and unannounced. He then proceeded to talk disrepectfully to me. He needed to be disciplined. And," Lord Harris held up a finger as he made another point, "I am not accountable for any injury inflicted him oneself due to their own clumsiness. The serving boy dropped the log on his own foot, I didn't even touch the bundle he was carrying. Thus, as the boy was under my ruling, I saw fit that he would be disciplined."

A small sneer overtook the noble's face as he continued. "The second claimed 'attack' was another account of much needed disipline. The boy spilt the entire morning meal he was carrying down my front. The boy is an uncoordinated, clumsy servant!"

A few people in the audience whispered their agreements.

"And of the last attack, the one witnessed by King Arthur himself?"

"Self defense," the noble responded, shrugging his shoulders. "I was being treatened by the king and took appropriate action."

At this response it took all of Arthur's being to restrain himself from attacking Lord Harris and strangling him.

Lord Cabot just simply nodded and turned to face his peers once more. The crowd remained oddly quiet, collectively waiting on baited breath. Turning back to the king, the nobleman announced, "The council has nothing more to ask. Now is the time for any relivant information to be presented before the council makes its ruling."

Silence.

"Very well. We shall reconvene in an hour to pronounce the judgment."

The council exited the room and Lord Harris was escorted out for a second time. The gathered masses exploaded in an upsurge of noise. King Arthur sank into his throne, thinking to himself about what had just occurred. Lord Cabot had not been too cruel in his cross-examination of witnesses; then again, he had only been able to cross-examine his king and the man he favored. Either way, King Arthur mused that this second part of the trial could still fold either way, towards the defense or the offense.

Being lost in his thoughts the hour flew by quickly for King Arthur. Soon the council reeentered the throne room and seated themselves. Lord Cabot, the elected spokes-person, placed himself before the throne, so he could be seen and heard by all.

"A judgment has been made," the head council member announced. He paused dramatically before continuing, "The council has ruled that Lord Harris, son of Baltier, is… innocent in the account of the abuse and murder of his own servant."

Screams and protests emmitted from the audience. King Arthur quickly silenced them, wishing to hear the second ruling as quickly as possible.

"The council has ruled Lord Harris, in the account of abuse to the replacement servant, innocent." More objections and wailing arose from the crowd, extremely dismayed with the judgement. However, above all the noise, the high council member continued. "The council has found Lord Harris, in the final accont of attempted murder of the King's manservent, to be _guilty_." Lord Cabot looked as though he was in great pain announcing this last judgment. "And as punishment Lord Harris is to be stripped of his title and his lands to be passed to his next of kin. Similarly, he must pay reparations to the affronted servant in the amount of wages lost due to the injuries sustained."

Cheers erupted from crowd of people, all seemed content with the ruling of the council. Well, almost all. Sir Gwaine frowned and glared at the back of Lord – or be it ex-lord – Harris' head. Gwaine wished to see the man dead, not just disgraced and stripped of title.

King Arthur stood and raised his hands for silence. The king then turned and faced the disgraced Harris and said, "As king I renounce you from your lordship." Then to the guards he commanded, "Get him out of my sight."

The discredited man was grabbed and lead back to the dungeons. The crowd continued to cheer and exclaimed their happiness while its associates slowly disappated. However, Gaius rushed from the throne room. With a smile gracing his aged face, the old physician hurried to tell Merlin the good news.

* * *

_A/N:_ **There all done. Now I am off to bed. Good night all my lovely readers, I hope to wake to a ton of reviews in the morning. Good night!**

**Please review.**

_P.S._** – As to Merlin being the "son of none" it was a reference to Merlin and the village not knowing the identity of his father as child. He was a bastard. And, even though he now knew the identity of his biological father, Merlin could not reveal his real name or else he would expose who his father was, and in turn, expose who, or rather what, he was.**


	13. Call Me Gwen

_A/N:_ **I am back!**

**I must say it took me long enough. I honestly have little to no excuse for my unexplained dissappearance. College and my studies have completely taken over a majority of my time. But now, during this less busy semester I have been trying to write more and more for this story so it can soon be completed.**

**But you should know, faithful reader, that ****I never leave a story unfinished****! If it seems like I have disappeared off the face of the earth and neglected to update it is not true that I will not finish the story. Not even kidnapping aliens, magical beasts, and/or vengeful super villains will keep me from finishing a story!**

**At this point in time, I do not believe that I can continue with my weekly Monday updates. It is just happenstance that I am posting on a Monday. I will be, however, updating as often as my crazy schedule will allow. I hope all my readers remain faithful and will stick with me no matter what wild behaviour I display.**

***Please note I have made some corrections and updates to the last chapter (Chapter 12). I slightly changed the outcome of the trial and added a few details that I left out in some of the descriptions. I would ask you to reread the updated chapter to some points later to come in the story aren't confusing with the older text.

**Thank you for understanding, and enjoy! **

*This story is set during season 4. Arthur is king but Gwen is banished and Lancelot is dead.

_**Disclaimer**__: _If _Merlin_ were mine I would have ended Season 5 differently.

* * *

**Chapter 13 (Call Me Gwen)**

Upon entering his chambers Gaius called out to his young ward. "Merlin?"

The shuffle of feet could be heard before the door on the far wall cracked open. "Are you alone?" a timid voice called.

"Yes, my boy. You may come out."

As a response a completely hale and hearty raven-haired manservant stepped out from his appointed room and approached Gaius. All signs of injury and past ailment had disappeared from Merlin's body. The previous night, when Gaius had been treating Merlin after his second collaspse, the young warlock's magic reacted to the continous strain of its master's mortal being. While Gwaine had been looking away Merlin had gasped and his usual pale blue iris' had shone of molten gold. Gaius had reacted quickly and shooed Gwaine from the room before returning to watch the entirity of his ward's body glow; from every cut and laceration, from every pore and aperture flowed a stream of magic. It trickled from the openings, as slow as syrup, coating Merlin's form with a swirling, golden aura. And, as the magic began to diminish from sight, all injury faded. The sorcerer's magic had healed himself, leaving nothing but one raised, white scar that circled the now healthy boy's neck, the only reminder of all the horrid events that had occurred over the past week. This powerful, supernatural healing still baffled Gaius.

But the older man's memories of the other night were swept aside when Merlin asked, "What happened?"

"He was found guilty for your attempted murder," the old physician told his ward happily.

"And the other accusations?" Merlin questioned further.

"Innocent," Guais told him regretfully. "In both the abuse and murder of his own servant and the abuse of you."

Merlin paled and, due to emotional exhaustion rather than physical injury, limply sank down onto the stool behind him. Salty tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to spill down his high cheekbones. And, in a voice muffled by his hands, Merlin crooned, "Terrance, I am sorry I could not keep my promise. I am so sorry…"

Lovingly, Gaius went up to the young warlock and patted him tenderly on the back while saying, "Merlin, it is not your fault. You did eveything you could. He would not blame you. You did after all bring some justice to the poor lad. You made him known, you made him more than the faceless body he was until you discovered him. You brought him recognition."

Merlin wept, "But I could not bring him peace."

"Every goal, every action, every thought, every feeling you experienced for that boy, whether it be consciously or unconsciously known, brought him peace!" Gaius asserted. "Trust me."

After a few more mintues, Merlin wiped the last tears from his eyes and turned toward his mentor. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, my boy. It was something you needed to hear."

* * *

Sir Gwaine launched a table at the wall. Wood thudded against stone, splintering the weaker of the two. But, dispite the fact he had broken one of his last remaining pieces of funature, the commoner knight's wrath did not abide. Then, in another bout of rage, Gwaine kicked the remains of the damaged table and cursed the man who, not two hours before, had escaped trial with nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a disgraced title.

Gwaine was murderous. He was homicidal, vindictive, and, most of all, bloodthristy. Oh, how he wished to see the ex-Lord Harris dead. Executed for the crimes he commited against Merlin.

The commoner knight itched to have drink. To drown his feelings in ale, wine, and other numerous amounts of alcoholic beverages to suppress his anger and sorrow for his dearest friend. But Gwaine pushed those feelings a side. He had to be sharp, he had to think. For tonight, Gwaine vowed, he would plot and plan the death of Harris by his own hand for the greater-good of Camelot.

* * *

Sir Leon found King Arthur down in the armory polishing his sword. At first, the blonde-haired knight did not make his presence known, he simply watched his king go about the routine cleaning. The task seemed to be relaxing the tense young king, calming him. After several minutes Sir Leon cleared his throat to announce his attendance in the armory.

Slightly startled, Arthur turned toward the knight and greeted him, saying, "Sir Leon, what brings you here?"

"I have come in search of you, Sire. The Lady Gwendolynn has arrived not ten minutes ago and requests an audience with you."

"Really? She has arrived so soon," King Arthur commented. But as he said this he glanced out the window at the darkening sky. It was then that he realized the trial had ended hours ago and it was now near sundown. Slowly, Arthur looked down at the sword in his hands, it shone with such a brilliance that he assumed must have resulted from him mindlessly polishing it for little over an hour.

Sighing, the young man stood and placed his weapon on the rack with his other armor. "Well, Leon, I suppose you should take me to Lady Gwendolynn. I should not keep her waiting and I am sure she is anxious to hear about the fate of her husband."

"Sire," Sir Leon acknowledged, bowing rigidly at the waist.

The walk to the throne room was a quick and silent one. Leon followed his king and, as of course any loyal knight would, helped him straighten his clothing and crown before entering the Great Hall. As Arthur was settling himself in his ornate chair, Sir Leon went to the huge double doors at the end of the hall and admitted Harris' wife.

"Your Excelency," Lady Gwendolynn crooned. She curtseyed respectfully. As she rose from her deep bow Arthur got his first real glimpse at the female before him. He remembered meeting Gwendolynn a number of years ago when he was still but a prince, even then she had been a gem among granite. And now, she had aged as gracefully as a one of his prized bottles of wine that resided in the royal cellars. Her hair was a chesnut brown, falling long past her shoulders in a most stately manner. Two braids of her hair encircled the crown of her head before meeting in the back and trailing down among the straight locks beneath it. Gwendolynn's face was homely, her lips full, and her eyes a emerald green. Slender limbs rested peacefully on a narrow waist. Her lavender dress, with its silver lineings, evenly displayed her hour glass figure all while covering her modestly, as a lady should be.

"My lady, please," King Arthur called, "this is an informal meeting, the court is out, there is no need for such extravagance. Call me Arthur. For now, more than ever, we should talk as friends while I regretfully tell you the fortune of your husband."

"Very well, Arthur," the lady responded. "Then you should call me Gwen, for friends we shall be for this next hour."

Upon the utterance of her shortened name, Arthur felt a chill run down his back. Oh, how she reminded him of his lost Guinevere. His heart still stung at her betrayal. His soul still ached at her unfaithfulness. Standing, Arthur forced a smile and extended his arm for the noblewoman to take. "Come, let us go someplace less public. For much has happened today and you must be tired from your long journy."

"You are too kind, Arthur," she replied as she greatfully accepted his arm, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow.

The young king then truned to his knight. "Sir Leon, send word for a room to be prepared for the lady and have some servants prepare a meal to be delivered to my chambers for my guest and I. There after, please joins us so we may have a civil conversation."

Leon bowed. "Sire," he affrimed before rushing out to fullfil the king's requests.

Arthur guided Gwendolynn through the winding corridors of the castle before finally arriving at his own personal chambers. He settled Gwendolynn in a comfortable seat in front of the fire before addressing her again. "Gwen," his voice caught slightly at the name, "I am sure you have many questions to ask of me."

"Yes, Arthur, I do. First and formost, I wish to know of the fate of my husband."

The blonde-haired monarch lowered his head deferentially. "Out of four charges that were brought against him, Harris has been found guilty of one."

"Four?" Gwendolynn inquired, shocked at the large number. "What were these charges?"

Meeting his guest's eyes, he proclaimed, "The first set included the phsyical abuse and murder of his manservant, Terrance." Gwendolynn gasped, dainty hands flyng to cover his opened mouth. Arthur continued, "Of these he was found innocent. Similarly, with the charge of abuse against the servant who was sent as a replacement to serve under your husband. However, Harris was found guilty of the attempted murder of said servant."

"How ghastly!?" stated Gwendolynn. "Did you know the servant that was sent to replace Terrance?"

"Yes," the king spoke. He tore his eyes away from the glassy green ones before him, settling on the dancing flames in the hearth. "His name was Merlin. He was my personal manservant," he said, then adding as an afterthought, "and friend."

A small dainty hand then found its way to Arthur's forearm. And, giving him a reassuring squeeze, the noblewoman articulated, "Please, tell me more."

* * *

_A/N:_ **Oh no! The plots thicken. You are probably wondering were I am going with all these new subplots, but I assure all will come together in the end.**

**Firstly, Merlin's magical healing of all his wounds is for a simple plot device to speed the story along. I don't want Merln laid up in bed for the rest of the story just to recover from his injuries at the hand of ex-Lord Harris. At this point I do not believe I will have any of the knights, especially Arthur, notice how quickly he has healed. I plan for Merlin and Gaius to decieve everyone into believeing Merlin is still gravely hurt.**

**Secondly, I have taken Gwaine's earlier vow of loyalty and friendship to Merlin, which he expressed in Chapter 10 to a whole new level. A big question to ask yourself is, "What will Merlin think when he finds out about Gwaine's murderous plans?"**

**Thirdly, the Lady Gwendolynn's similarities to Guinevere. Hence, the common nickname of Gwen. I plan to use this similarity later in the story. Where? You will just have to wait and see.**

**I'm glad to back! So why don't you make me feel welcome with some amazing reviews…? Thanks!**


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